Withered Butterfly
by Icefelis
Summary: Sango knew that some monsters hid behind a gentle face; her uncle had taught her that. And thus, she was Midoriko's legacy, the only female taijyia, destined to fight and never to love. A story of how Sango the taijyia came to be, and came to love. MirSan
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

NOTICE: This story will deal with incest.

This story will depict flashbacks. However, those flashbacks are not necessarily placed in chronological order. They are in the order in which Sango is remembering them. Enjoy!

**Withered Butterfly**

**Prologue**

Something covered her mouth and nose, startling her out of her sleep. Immediately her hands went to the thing over her face, trying to pull it away as panic filled her small body. Her small nails scratched at the warm rough hand, trying to break free, as whimpers escaped her throat.

"Hush, little coral, it will be alright…. Don't make a noise now…" She gasped in a breath as the hand was removed, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes. The fear filling her heart receded slightly as she saw a familiar face close to her. He was her favourite uncle. Unlike her father, he had always been very nice to her, giving her fruits and ribbons and showing a lot of affection towards her.

"Uncle, where's mommy…." The hand that had been stopping her from breathing was now touching her ankle. She could feel the man's thumb brushing back and forth against the curve of her feet, meant to be comforting. She looked up at the man with thrust shinning in her eyes. He smiled at her and touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip, making her smile back slightly. She reached up to catch the offending finger with her tiny hands, taking on a look of concentration.

"Like a true demon slayer…" He gave her a kind smile and opened up his arms to her. She had always marvelled at the life of a demon slayer. She knew her father had been disappointed at his first born being a girl. However, he tried to not let it show, putting his hopes into the growing being in his wife's womb. He wanted a boy, one that would become a strong demon slayer and one day take the head of the village and the demon slayers.

Her heart soared as she heard her uncle's words, happy that he would recognise her worthy of such a title, even though she was a girl. She moved to her knees and crawled on her uncle's lap happily, hugging his neck with her little arms. She felt a strong hand rub her back tenderly and relaxed against the man, soothed by the lulling touch.

"Where's mommy and daddy?" She looked up at him with huge eyes, tightening her hold on him.

"Mommy is with the midwife and daddy is gone slaying." Slaying being killing a demon for another village. The adults didn't hide the truth to the children, instead doing their best to prepare the young ones for the truth of what they were doing, of what reality awaited them. The next generation could not be protected from the harsh world. They had to embrace it.

The little girl nodded and smiled up at her uncle, whose hand continued moving over her back.

"I'm gonna take care of you for now." He ran his hand lower down her back, his fingers trailing over her bottom. She did not react to the touch, only burrowed her head deeper in his neck, happy her uncle was showing attention to her and that she would get to spend some time with him. She loved him. She imagined when she was older that she'd marry a man like him, kind, affectionate and playful.

His hand went to the back of her thigh and moved up under her yukata. He brushed his fingers between her thighs, caressing the skin there with gentle fingers. She stiffened in his hold, her heart hammering in her chest. What was uncle doing? His finger touched her labia briefly and she whimpered. She heard her uncle's breathing quickening near her ear, his chest moving faster under her small body. A small tendril of fear curled in her stomach and she tried to push against the older man's chest with her palms but he tightened his hold around her small body. Her mother and father had often held her, but never had they touched her this way, unless bathing.

"Hush now, little coral, let me show you how much I love you." He looked down at her with soft eyes and something she had always noticed in her uncle's eyes that she had not feared before. It was a look she had seen her father give her mother sometimes. It was normal then for her uncle to look at her that way, since her daddy loved her mommy too. She clenched her fingers in his shirt, unsure what to do. It felt wrong.

"Don't you love me too?" The question brought tears to her eyes. She loved her uncle very much, she didn't want him to think she didn't. He wanted to show her he loved her. She nodded her head with a soft sniffle. He tilted her head up with his fingertips, looking down into teary red tinted eyes.

"I'll show you how much I love you, and you'll show me too, okay?" He slowly leaned down, kissing her on the lips. She felt warm pressure on her mouth, but didn't move, too scared to do anything. Something wet and slimy pushed pass her lips, making her whimper in fear. She didn't want to do this with uncle; she didn't like the thing moving into her mouth.

The man pulled away from the child slowly, watching her with lust, one a child her age could not understand and roughly pulled at her yukata, baring her to his eyes. The young girl shivered in the cold, soft whimpers escaping her throat as tears trailed down her cheeks. He leaned forward, licking away the salty trails. The young child struggled in herself not to move, even though she could feel her tiny body shaking in fear, even though she didn't want to do this. But she loved uncle. He would not hurt her. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. She clinched her eyes shut at the feeling of a warm slightly rough tongue on her cheek, hugging her body with her arms. She opened them a few minutes later, brushing away the drying saliva on her cheek with a trembling hand and looked up at her uncle.

His eyes had darkened, and the fear and uncertainty in her belly only intensified, stiffening her whole body until she could not move anymore. He pushed her back on the sleeping mat, lying down next to her and propping himself up on one arm. He pressed one hand firmly against her chest, stroking his fingers lightly over her nipples.

She took hold of his arm weakly, unsure of the sensation filtering through her heart and body. She felt warm breath in her ear, making her dig her nails in the older man's forearm.

"Now I'll show you how much I love you…" The little girl closed her eyes.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Sango sat up with a weak cry, sweat pouring down her forehead as she hit at an invisible opponent with her fists. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the frantic tempo throbbing in her whole body. With each thump, it felt as if her whole body would lurch forwards, propelled by the blood pumping through her veins. She let herself fall back down on the cool earth, looking up blindly at the sky.

"Keh."

She rolled her eyes up, craning her neck at an odd angle to look at the shape of her companion, sitting in a tree as always. Two golden eyes peered at her in the darkness, their shine indicating the presence of a predator. Those eyes were not menacing, however. While his usual uncaring look was in place, she could detect hints of concern in the hanyou's eyes. She smiled slightly, and hoping he would not see through her lie, she rolled to her side, coming face to face with big slanted eyes. She offered the same smile to her demon friend Kilala, even though she knew the neko would see through it. The cat demon moved to her mistress' side and transformed in her bigger form, before curling up against Sango's back, offering the comfort she could.

She knew.

She knew of the shadows lurking in her dreams.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Hello there,

Well, this is the prologue of a story I'm working on. I hope you'll enjoy. There will be some Miroku/Sango in later chapters.

Please, review!


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

_Thank you to __**bingbangboom714**__, __**Death101- Fox Version**__, __**chibi-sango16**__, __**Hannahmylovemiroku, kaerfemina**__ and __**SAngo**__ for reviewing. This chapter is for you guys!_

**Chapter 1**

"HIRAIKOTSU!" A giant boomerang sliced through the air in a wide arc, leaving a trail of leaves and branches as it cut through trees. The weapon made a u-shaped turn, coming back at alarming speed towards its intended target.

Sango watched on with an intent look in her eyes, using the distraction of the demon to better position herself for her next attack. Her opponent followed the movement of the boomerang closely, nearly careless in dismissing her. She took the opportunity to pull out a small smoke bomb from one of her pouches, palming it in her left hand discreetly. The low sound of an object breaking through the air became louder, alerting Sango and her prey to the return of the approaching boomerang.

The demon, more animal than human, disappeared in a blur of dust and leaves, evading the giant bone before it could do any damage. It landed on a tree branch, snarling at the slayer, its upper lip drawn up to show a set of razor sharp teeth. Said slayer ground her feet, preparing to catch her heavy weapon with her right hand, which, upon contact sent her sliding back a couple of feet. She gritted her teeth, showing back her own version of a snarl to the demon.

She was taijya.

She was a demon slayer.

She was Midoriko's legacy.

The demon sharply looked away from her, the fur on its back standing on end until it looked like a cloak of small needles. The beast seemingly went from mad to downright crazed at the sight of the priestess in such close proximity. Small rivulets of drool escaped his muzzle-like mouth and ran down its chin. Its eyes took on a manic look as it stared at the holder of the shikon shards hungrily.

"Shikon…" It slurred out drunkenly, sniffing the air deeply.

A low rasp escaped its throat, mixed with a gurgling sound. It seemed entranced, its stare never breaking away from the dark-haired girl as he took small steps forwards. His new prey stood tall, holding her bow taunt in her hands. She stared back defiantly at the beast, her arrow ready to be released at the first sign of movement. Sango launched into action, sending her boomerang towards the beast with a flick of the wrist. The demon startled away just as the giant bone embedded itself in the tree behind it with a resounding crack. The slayer smiled grimly, throwing the smoke bomb in the path of the demon.

"WIND…"

"NO!" The sharp cry stopped Inu Yasha in his tracks, his blade held still in mid-air. He gave an annoyed and puzzled look at the young demon slayer standing meters away from him, who regarded him with determined and furious eyes.

"He is MY prey." She ground out, sliding out her katana from her belt with a jerk. The hanyou's eyes narrowed as he turned towards the demon slayer, posturing unconsciously to show her his position as alpha in their group. He bore his teeth at her, hissing out a warning breath, the hand holding his sword tightening to the point his knuckles turned white.

The bitch was defying his authority, trying to usurp his position.

She regarded him coolly, but fiercely, not backing down, entering into a short contest of the will.

"My. Prey." She whispered lowly, pointing her katana to the youkai.

"You…." They both broke their stare as they heard the low growls from their forgotten opponent intensifying. The demon tossed its shaggy head back and forth, trying to rid itself of the burning sensation of the smoke in its eyes and nose. Blinking, it turned towards the priestess standing a few feet away, holding her bow taunt. The youkai snarled angrily in answer to the feeling of the priestess' purifying energy, focusing on the inviting glow emanating from the shards even through her shirt. The shikon thrummed with the pure power the priestess poured out in wave, preparing her arrow.

The demon dashed forwards suddenly, claws out, ready to shred through flesh and find what he so desires. The young girl released her purifying arrow quickly in answer, the blue coloured light surrounding it gradually growing in strength.

The beast sidestepped it in a sudden show of agility. It let out a loud howl at the burn left on its body from the trail of purifying energy having touched him. Inuyasha and Sango launched themselves at the demon, eyes widening in horror as they saw the now enraged beast coming at their friend.

Kagome froze as the form lunging for her came closer and closer, knowing with certainty she would not be able to evade its attack. Inu Yasha swore loudly, tossing his blade aside, knowing he couldn't attack the beast without also hurting the priestess. The demon slayer was closer to the miko, but also slower than he was, and would not get there in time. He quickened his steps, feet nearly not touching the ground as he raced to protect the girl.

The priestess raised her arms in defense, trying to summon her miko energy into a shield that would protect her. A blue flame started to emanate from her fingertips, painstakingly spreading to her hands and towards her wrist. She clenched her jaw at the effort, trying to coax out her energy in a way she had never attempted before. The blue flame flickered at her mounting panic.

She would die.

She would be slain by an average, if not slightly weak demon.

"KAGOME!" The sharp cry came from Inu Yasha, who, powerless, watched as the demon of the day moved to maul the young dark-haired woman. His heart pounded in his chest, panic leaving an acrid taste in his mouth, the thought of losing the young girl unbearable. He landed at her side a couple of seconds before the demon impacted with the priestess, wrapping his arms around her and trying to turn her body with his to take the brunt of the attack. He gritted his teeth, bitting back a cry as the demon's claws sunk in his back, leaving deep gouges in the flesh. Blood poured out as the demon tore his claws out, rearing back for another attack.

Kagome cried out as she felt Inu Yasha jerk against her body. The demon at his back blew drop of spits in her face, angry at being unable to get to the jewel shards now pressed between their bodies. Smoke rose from his chest where her purifying energy had touched him before her power flickered out. She gasped as she saw the claws of the demon coming for the hanyou's neck even as the half-demon bent his knees, preparing to jump away from the attack.

Sango quickly ran behind the demon, gripping the katana tightly between her hands. Jumping high in the air, she brought the sharp blade above her head, knees brought to her chest to make herself smaller and gain momentum. She brought the blade down in a slashing motion, embedding the metal into the demon skull as the hanyou jumped away with the priestess held in his arms.

"ARGH!" The shout, filled with rage and pain, echoed in the clearing, nearly inhuman.

Time stopped.

Sango panted, tugging at the blade stuck into the head of her prey, which stood still. The demon dropped to the ground, giving little twitches and jerks. Gritting her teeth, the slayer put a foot on the youkai's shoulder, gripping her katana tightly and preparing to pull. The demon only left eye rolled back to meet hers, regarding her with sudden clarity. Horror and pain shone in their depth, and the sudden fear that she knew all too well.

Death.

Biting back a sob, she jerked her weapon free. Brain matter clung to the blade, which she looked at blindly in order to avoid seeing the convulsing form of the demon at her feet. The movements slowly died down, but she didn't raise her head, watching little greyish and pink clumps with a syrupy red substance slide down the length of the katana slowly, until they pooled in the grass.

Inuyasha raised his head, looking down at the girl he held. She seemed stunned, looking over his shoulder glassy-eyed, droplets of an unknown liquid marring her smooth skin. It slowly pearled down, leaving tracks on her forehead and cheeks. Yet she did not move to wipe them away, but rather stared at the young woman standing a few feet away from them. The hanyou held silent, throwing a look over his shoulder.

The demon slayer stood, slumped, tip of her katana resting on the ground. Her bangs covered her eyes from his view, as she stared at the sword tip, which rested near the mauled head of the demon in front of her. Her face, hair, and upper body were splattered with blood and other substances, which he knew to come from the demon. She raised a limp hand to wipe at the substances distractedly, smearing her face with it.

She raised her eyes to his. Hollow mahogany pool stared at him.

Vacant.

Dead.

All fury had fled, leaving behind a shell. With her face covered in blood and brain matter, she looked like a vengeful spirit, dead and cold. Like someone who killed in revenge, she had gone from a feral being to the stillness of one who realised the horror of what they had done.

Frowning, he turned to the girl he still held tightly to his body. She now looked horrified, starring at her friend with fear and surprise. She had never seen her act so feral, not even when she had attacked Naraku all these years ago. This was a side of Sango she didn't know, didn't understand. The girl stared back at her blankly. There was no one there.

Was this the slayer?

Was this who she had been taught to become in order to slay youkais?

"You okay, Kagome?" She nodded at the soft question coming from the man holding her, visibly shaken. She could barely tear her eyes from the sight of her friend standing over the demon. It was like staring at a train wreck. She did not want to see, did not want to understand, but couldn't tear her gaze away from the horrifying sight.

With a jerk, she turned her eyes to the hanyou holding her tightly to his body. He had tried to protect her, and now looked down at her in concern. The thought that he had taken the attack from the youkai for her made her chest tighten with love and concern. He had gotten hurt for her. She felt sudden shame for having unable to protect herself, for having gotten him hurt.

She had been unable to summon the energy in time to stop the demon, and would now be dead without her friends. She had underestimated the demon, grown complacent in her trust in her own abilities, and it had nearly cost her life.

The priestess hugged the hanyou gently, who, for once, did not comment. He frowned down at her, wiping away the droplets she could feel rolling down her face, droplets she preferred not to think about. She suddenly felt nauseous, and swallowed back her saliva, trying to ignore it.

Alive.

They were all alive.

In reassurance, she gave him a small smile, one that she knew did not look very real. She could feel herself trembling, but felt calm, almost sleepy. The dim thought that she might be in shock crossed her mind. She stumbled as the man holding her released her suddenly but caught herself before she fell down.

Inu Yasha immediately turned around on his heels, marching to the other human female of the group, body stiff with the pain of the deep gouge in his back.

Bitch.

He stopped a couple of inches from her with a menacing look on his face. Fury made him start to shake. How could she have stood in his way? How could she have put in danger everyone, especially the miko? She had endangered all of them, and for what?

"What the fuck is your problem, bitch?" Sango didn't reply, standing frozen looking at her dead prey in the ground.

Animal.

_Animal._

_Your daughter….She's an animal!_

She raised glassy eyes to the hanyou, startled to find him so close and talking to her.

She snapped back to reality with a startle, suddenly seeming to deflate on herself.

Her gaze went from Inu Yasha to Kagome slowly, who stood motionlessly, staring on blankly. The look was even more grotesque with the drying trails of blood. Guilt brought a sharp pain to her chest.

_Animal!_

Sango broke eye contact, ducking her head and letting her bangs cover her eyes once more, trying to hide her feelings from the angry glare sent her way, and, worse, the blank look from Kagome. Her eyes found the dead demon at her feet, head cut open. The kill had been made with more force than necessary, and in a way to inflict damage to the face. She had acted like a killer, not a protector.

_Animal._

"I…I'm sorry Kagome." She mumbled under her breath. Slowly, she bent down to wipe the katana in the grass and moved to pick up her boomerang. She strapped the giant weapon to her back, her movements sluggish. She felt tired, so tired.

Sango stared back down at the body, looking away from the one glassy eye who seemed to track her movements. She saw the blood start to pool slowly in the grass, making trails between the green strands. It looked strangely dark in the sunlight, glinting like rubies.

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it!" The dog demon hissed, clenching his fists and stepping closer to her, carelessly soaking his feet with the blood in his anger. The girl avoided his gaze, making his anger mount. She had endangered them, and would not even bother explaining why, would only apologize. It was not enough.

Not enough.

_Not enough._

The thought resonated in his head as he looked at the shivering miko standing behind him from the corner of his eyes. His anger mounted, his body starting to shake with it. He jerked the girl around to face him forcefully, unable now to feel pain from his wounds caught in his anger as he was. Hissing out a breath, he brought his face closer to her, intending to tear into her for her selfishness and stupidity.

_Not enough!_

Sango squeezed her eyes shut, taking the anger she felt she rightfully deserved and tried to ignore the nausea building up inside of her.

_Animal._

"Inu Yasha, stop it!" A soft voice commanded, meeker than usual. Kagome wobbled closer carefully, putting one hand on Inu yasha's sleeve partly to calm him down, partly to hide her shaky steps. Her head spun as she made her way to him, making it hard to walk in a straight line.

Definitely shock then.

"But…" He growled softly, releasing the taijya with a shove and pulling the miko against his side carefully. Her eyes looked out of focus as he held her and his anger extinguished immediately as concern replaced it.

He had seen this look before, on grown men. He had seen men die soon after sporting it. Kagome relaxed against his form gratefully, sighing at the warmth of his body chasing away the chills coursing through hers.

"Don't make me say it…Please…" She whispered softly, hiding her face in his haori. The hanyou looked at her with hints of hurt in his eyes, his ears flicking back and closer to his skull in typical chastised dog fashion. The young girl patted his arm gently, fighting against the numbness spreading to her body.

"Inu Yasha….we need to take care of each other now…" The hanyou nodded, swallowing thickly and pushing strands of her hair behind her ear. His fingertips touched her clammy skin for a second. The coolness registered and he started to brush his fingers quickly over her face.

Fear.

She was cool to the touch.

Cool when it was in the 30 degrees outside.

Sango took a deep breath and turned around, unable to look at her two friends, hurt because of her actions, unable to see Kagome pale as snow or to see the righteous anger in Inu Yasha's eyes.

_Animal!_

_She's a danger to others!_

The words repeated themselves in her mind, thick with accusation.

Underlined with fear.

"I should…I'll catch up with you guys later. Go ahead, I'll meet you tonight at Kaede's." Inu Yasha looked ready to protest but kept his peace as Kagome clung to him.

"It's ok Inu Yasha…." The miko sighed. They needed to regroup, to heal.

Later.

Later they would deal with this.

"Keh." He turned his back to the young slayer, picking up the priestess in his arms bridal style. The brown eyed girl sucked in a deep breath as the world turned. Unable to fight off the nausea, she closed her eyes, burying her face in the soft red clothe covering the hanyou's shoulder.

The white-haired man marched over to a fallen tree trunk and deposited the girl carefully on it. Kagome gasped as she raised her head to look over the man's shoulder as he bent in front of her, seeing the blood trailing down his haori, colouring the clothe a darker red.

"Inu Yasha, your back…"

"Inu Yasha! Kagome!" A dark haired man ran into the clearing, followed by a giant cat demon and young fox demon. He slowed down his run, looking from the pair to the bloody slayer and then to the dead demon on the ground. His brows furrowed with curiosity and puzzlement.

"Sango?" He called out gently.

Sango clenched her fists, biting down on her lower lip until blood touched her tongue, the metallic tang prompting her to speak.

"Kilala, stay with them. I'll be fine on my own." Whispering the last words softly, she ran towards the forest, guilt gnawing at her heart.

.

.

.

_7 years and 5 months ago_

"A demon slayer must protect the weak. It is our vocation to give help to those who need it and to keep the balance of strength between humans and demons. Are you listening, Sango?"

The young girl looked up at her father with clouded eyes, emotions swirling inside of her. Today, her father was to teach her about the basic principles of the taijya's way.

Her first lesson.

The first moments of a new beginning.

A new path for her, daughter of the chief.

The wounds on her back pulled slightly as she shifted, not yet fully healed. She fought to keep still as her father pinned her down with a harsh look.

He had been giving her lot of those.

Harsh looks.

Whenever her mother wasn't looking, he would stare at her hard, as if the weight of his gaze would allow him to see what was inside of her, and change her to fit what he wanted.

Oh, she knew he loved her, knew he had ensured she survived.

She knew.

She also knew he was shamed.

She knew he did not know what to do with her.

She knew he did not believe she would succeed.

But he would try; he would do everything.

He was to train her himself, to teach her all he knew. His daughter would not be mediocre. He would make her the best slayer he could. She would live honourably, until, like most in their profession, she did a mistake that would kill her or make her unable to continue on her chosen path.

They had much to do.

She knew she would have to be stronger, faster, better than any other man of their village. Most children were trained as soon as they could stand on their feet, first through games, and then later, when they reached their fifth season, through real training. Sango was in her early tenth year. Although having always been an active and acrobatic girl, she had not been prepared for this. She had never trained before. She didn't have the strength other boys did.

She looked towards Midoriko's cave, where shining eyes stared at her calmly from the darkness, assessing her. No malice shone from their depth, only curiosity. The man standing in front of her clapped his hands sharply, gaining her attention. She turned her head forwards, staring ahead.

"I understand father." Her father regarded her intently and nodded, walking to stand closer to his daughter. He bent down to be at eye level, softening his tone slightly as he took on the serious if not scared look on his daughter's face.

"A demon slayer will not prey on the weak or the defenceless. It is not our way." Sango looked down at her booted feet, fighting not to hug herself.

_Not our way._

_I love you Sango…_

She bit her lip hard, torn. Her father still stood at her level and she hung her head, wishing to hide her eyes from his view. Her heart started beating quicker in her chest, insecurity making her hesitate.

"Father?" she whispered hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"The Takedas…" Her father gave her a sharp stern look as he pulled her head up by the chin, cutting her off immediately. The touch was firm, his fingers biting in her chin until the skin turned white. She could see deep-rooted anger in her father's stare as he looked at her. The child hid a wince, clenching her jaw to avoid making a noise of pain.

"I have told you to never mention this again. You are to concentrate on your training, to become a true demon slayer." His tone was cold and firm.

The child blinked back tears, biting down hard on her tongue, knowing to keep her peace. She glanced at her brother from the corner of her eyes as her father stood up, abandoning her to move to the dummy propped up in front of her.

The young boy was being bounced on the knees of their mother at the entrance of their hut. He looked happy.

Innocent.

Weak.

"To protect the weak…I am ready father."

.

.

.

Sango opened her eyes, picking up her head from the awkward position it had been in. She leaned back against a rock at the border of the hot spring, working at the kinks in her neck .

She looked around carefully, knowing it to be dangerous to be found in such a vulnerable position, be it by men or demons. Nowadays, it seemed to her like the world was no longer black and white, but rather full of shades of grey. There were no evil and good sides, only people and demons strewn around between both of the poles.

Where did she stand in this continuum?

She wasn't good or innocent, hadn't been in so long, but never has she felt she had become close to doing such an unforgiving act as doubting her place in this world.

To protect.

Her vocation was to protect the weak first, and kill demons after, not the other way around. Taijyas didn't kill demons first and foremost when it put those in need in danger. It was not their way.

Yet…

She had done a mistake. She had let her emotions cloud her mind. Never go slaying while under the control of emotions. Emotions were a tool. They were to be curbed and bended to give strength and determination, not to impair judgement.

Demon slayers did not do such mistakes. Those who did were found unfit to hunt, and their slaying rights taken away until they could prove to keep a cool head during a fight. Each and every slayer depended on their companion. They guarded you, fought with you, bled with you. To abandon a companion in order to gain revenge or kill a particular foe was inexcusable.

The young woman sighed, scrubbing her face with the palms of her hands, trying to erase the recent events from her mind.

_Animal!_

_She's a danger to others!_

She heard noises in the bushes and turned around, quickly grasping the dagger she kept within reach and sinking down lower in the water until it reached her nose. Her hair created a black blanket around her head, tendrils moving gently with the ripples created in the shallow pool. She regulated her breathing, listening carefully to the treat. No demon would surprise her unprepared. She would not die because of a sudden weakness.

She held a dagger parallel to the water, away from her body and ready to be used at the barest sign of danger.

"Sango?" A soft voice called. The slayer immediately relaxed her stance, recognizing the voice to be Kagome's and stood up, making herself visible. She put the dagger back on the thigh holder she kept on her person while bathing alone. One could never be too careful, not with her reputation, and not when her giant weapon would be hard to get to quickly. Cleaning the weapon after each bath was a pain, but well worth it.

Always be prepared.

Boys from her village had taught her that.

She tensed once more as the dark-haired miko approached her cautiously, holding her yellow backpack over her shoulder. Sango's heartbeat quickened slightly at the thought of seeing the one she had failed to protect, or rather at seeing the concern in her eyes. It would only bring more guilt.

Kagome gazed concernedly at the girl in the natural spring, dark hair now sticking to a deathly pale face, accentuated by red tinted eyes. She came closer slowly, putting down her yellow backpack and sitting down at the edge of the hot spring. Sango looked down at the water, watching her hands make patterns in the warm liquid. Awkwardness and shame made a sudden flush appear on her cheeks. She did not know how to explain what had happened. Which words would be enough? How could she convey how deeply sorry and shamed she was?

She had nearly gotten her friend killed. For what? For memories of a monster she hadn't seen in years? How could she speak of what had happened? She could not bear to see the disapproval or horror in her friend's eyes.

She was dirty, so dirty.

She was untouchable.

Broken.

Despised.

_My fault._

She could not speak of the shame she had brought her family, or her tribe. She could not speak of the monster she battled every day, couldn't voice the actions she had taken part of.

_Dirty._

_Dangerous._

_Animal._

A hand touched her shoulder, startling her slightly, and she looked up in warm chocolate-coloured eyes. The other girl gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"It's okay Sango…" She bit her bottom lip and turned around to face the spring. The warm understanding and openness in those eyes felt alien to her, and shook her to her very being. She had seen eyes like these in only two people in her life.

The first one had been her baby brother, the first time she had held him in her arms.

The second had been Kagome, after she had attacked her and Inu yasha.

It was something she could not bear to lose. She couldn't bear to see those eyes cloud with disgust and mistrust.

"I'm sorry Kagome…I…" She whispered, unsure of how to continue. The other girl smiled slightly, unseen by the slayer, before a crease appeared between her eyebrows.

"It's okay Sango." The miko undressed as the other girl kept her back turned. The sound of splashing water alerted her to the fact the miko was now deep in the warm water. She felt the younger girl come closer to her back, gently touching her hair to brush it comfortingly.

"What happened out there, Sango?" She asked gently, pulling carefully on the slayer's shoulder until the later turned around to face her.

Guilt ate at Sango as she pondered what to answer. She did not wish to lie to her friend, and least of all, to worry her, but her shame was not to be exposed. She was to never speak of this again.

Never.

"I have simply been not sleeping well. Nightmares." The semi-lie nearly caught in her throat as she spoke it out loud.

"About Kohaku and your village?" Sango shrugged, avoiding Kagome's eyes, not wishing to answer the question or for the priestess to see the truth in her eyes. The girl paused, considering her carefully. She could feel the weight of her gaze on her, and fought not to fidget, fought not to run away or to spill out the truth.

_Poisonous truth._

"It's okay Sango. We don't have to talk about it." The slayer breathed a sigh of relief at the softly spoken words

"But… if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm there, okay?" The young demon slayer felt tears pricking at her eyes. Her body started shaking suddenly, and a keening noise escaped her mouth as her body lurched forwards with a sob. Kagome wrapped her arms around the slayer crying in her arms, closing her eyes at the tears rising in her own eyes at the pain filled sounds.

_Dishonour._

_Animal._

End of chapter 1.

Here is chapter 1! Hope you guys enjoyed. Some Miroku/Sango interaction is coming up in chapter 2 or 3! Stay tuned!

And please, pretty please, review!


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.**

**Chapter 2**

"Keh. It took you long enough." The young girl threw the hanyou a glare to rival that of any demon.

"Inu Yasha…" She muttered warningly. He keh-ed softly, turning away to brood. Only muttered curses could be heard as Sango and Kagome sat on the ground near the fire, one of them hunched on herself while the other looked on with concern.

"Ah ladies, so glad you joined us." The monk sat close to the two females, looking at the meat cooking over the fire. Kagome's supplies had ran out at least a week ago and since then, they had had to rely on Inu Yasha's hunting skills to get protein as the girls and Shippou searched for edible roots and herbs. Tonight's supper would consist of some kind of fish and a root that resembled a carrot, but certainly didn't taste like it.

Kagome gestured to the sticks suspended over the fire with her chin.

"How long until it's ready?"

"Ah very soon, lady Kagome."

"Keh, and it's not thanks to either of you." Kagome threw a furious look at Inu Yasha. Was it her or was he trying more than ever to make her angry? She saw Sango looking at the fire glassy-eyed and nudged her with her shoulder, pulling out discreetly a chocolate bar from her bag, one of the few she kept hidden. Shippou and Inu Yasha had humongous appetites, and would make short use of the candies, leaving the rest of the group empty-handed.

The other girl gave her a small smile in return, accepting the proffered chocolate hesitantly and fingering the shinny paper.

A caramilk.

One of her favourites.

She still couldn't figure out how they put the sweet liquid in the chocolate. She hid the chocolate bar in the folds of her travelling kimono, keeping the treat for later.

Kagome smiled pleasantly at her before turning back to the rest of the group with a sigh. After travelling for two weeks nonstop, they were all looking forwards to seeing Kaede's village.

"It will be good to see the village and Kaede again."

"Indeed, lady Kagome. I cannot wait to see how the young village girls are doing. I am sure they must be quite lonely." Inu Yasha turned his nose up in the air, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Keh, what do you care monk? You only want to get a romp in the bush and then leave. You ain't gonna marry one of them."

The young monk put a hand to his chest, giving a mock wounded look at the one who spoke, hints of real indignation shining through.

"Why Inu Yasha, are you questioning my honour?" The young hanyou snorted and moved towards the fire to check the fish. The demon slayer turned her gaze towards the moon, ignoring their banter.

.

.

.

"Hurry up, will ya!" The young woman threw a glare at her silver-haired companion as he hollered at them before turning back to face the road ahead. Things were now moving slow. Jewel shards were becoming harder and harder to find, and only those seeking to gain their power came across their path. The whole situation seemed to be making Inu Yasha even more irritable than before.

Everyone but him was in a sad state though. Yet, Inu Yasha was not complaining for once at going to the village, the prospect of Kaede's cooking cheering him up slightly. Plus, he knew to keep his peace, considering the looks Kagome was sending him. The young girl was walking along the other female of their group, alternating between glaring at him and looking at the slayer concernedly.

Kagome could not wait to be at the village and take the well to see her family. It was summer, and even though she was used at being apart from her loved ones for long periods of time, she missed them and wished to see them. She especially wished to see her little brother. He was growing too quickly, she thought as she petted the young fox demon in her arms.

Sango was walking with Kilala on her shoulder, the tiny neko curled up comfortably and snoozing quietly. Miroku walked a few paces behind them, the rings of his staff jingling softly and his gaze fixed on the back of one of the females in front of him.

"I can see the village!" The youngest of their group cried out. Smiles appeared on every single face as they made their approach to the village.

Kaede was outside, working on her garden. Years had not been kind to her, yet she continued to work hard to serve her village, the duty she had inherited from her dead sister.

The woman stood painstakingly from the ground, waving her hand slowly at the approaching group and smiling pleasantly.

"Ah Kagome, what a pleasure to see ye child, and to see all of you, of course. Please, come, ye all must be tired and hungry after such a long journey."

The little group entered Kaede's hut, sitting themselves as the woman busied herself with preparing them some kind of herbed meat and vegetables.

"How is the village doing, Kaede-sama?" The young priestess inquired pleasantly.

"Quite well, child. Ye have come at the right moment. There is a marriage to be celebrated."

"Really? Whose?"

"Ye remember the young Megumi? She is to be wed to Daidouji-san."

The dark-haired girl gasped, looking scandalised.

"But he is at least ten years her elder."

"It is not uncommon here child. Will you assist to the ceremony?" Kagome nodded mutedly as Miroku gave Kaede a chagrined look, muttering under his breath.

"Not Megumi. She was such a beautiful girl…" Sango scowled at the young monk, feeling suddenly irritable as she heard of the marriage and witnessed Miroku's reaction to it. She stood up gracefully, leaning against the doorway of the little hut, looking outside. Everyone kept silent as the smell of stew filled the room, Kagome and Kaede sometimes exchanging words, the later trying to educate Kagome in the way of the village and of being a priestess.

Sango took the bowl proffered to her, turning around absentmindedly.

"I wonder if she loves him." Everyone looked up at Sango at her unexpected words. She startled as she realised she had spoken out loud, a light blush gracing her cheeks. She cleared her throat embarrassedly, pulling away from the doorsill. Seeing as no one had stopped looking at her, she answered their silent question quietly.

"I just think one should love who they are to be wed to."

"An honourable feeling, indeed." Miroku inclined his head at Sango, smiling pleasantly.

"I agree with Sango." Kagome replied, sensing Sango's awkwardness at having all the attention centered on her.

"Shouldn't we get her a gift? Megumi, I mean?"

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.

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_8 years ago_

A little girl sat dressed in her silkiest kimono, her mother sitting close to her, her father not as close. Warm jasmine tea sat on the table in front of her, and on the other side, in front of the spokesperson of a family from another village.

A new heir had been born.

A male.

Her father would send her away to be married and her brother would have a girl send to the village for him to marry. Marriages within the village were allowed, but not particularly encouraged. Being such a closed-off and small society, they had noticed long ago that too many marriages within the village brought deformities and death to newborn children. As such, females were now sent away to other villages, and males would stay, instead receiving a wife themselves.

A male sat in front of her. Close to his thirties, he was not handsome, but not ugly either. His features did not stand out. However, he was well-off and from a family close to one of the strongest daimyos in the region.

Many came seeking wives in the slayer village. Their daughters were reputed to be healthy and strong, which was important is such a time. War between the daimyos was raging, and sicknesses were spreading like wildfire through the country. Wives needed to be strong to resist sicknesses and bear the brunt of childbearing.

"May I present you my daughter Sango." The man gazed at her with warm but calculating eyes. Repressing a shudder, a flash of past events going through her mind, Sango leaned closer to her mother, clenching her hands on her knees.

"You were right Daisuke-san, she is indeed quite pretty." The older man's voice was low and sharp to the ears.

"Is she healthy?" The question was asked thoughtfully. Her mother nudged her gently, silently asking her to look up at their guest so he may see her features better.

"Yes, quite. She has been a strong child."

"Has she begun any education yet? " Her parents' smiles dimmed slightly at the question. Sango noticed her mother's fingers tightening around her tea cup, the knuckles turning white.

"Not past that of what would be required in this village." The man gave a slightly displeased look at the admission, but quickly took a sip of tea to hide his reaction.

"Very well. There will be much to do."

"Finally, how old is she now?"

"She is just past her ninth spring." Their guest nodded his head slowly, not taking his eyes away from what could be his young master's intended. Sango lowered her eyes, decidedly uncomfortable in the situation.

"Hummm, she is quite young. It will be many seasons before she is ready."

Sango looked up at her mother wonderingly, whose eyes had widened at the comment. Her father was also frowning slightly, his eyes taking on a hard glint.

Her parents stood up and bowed before walking their guest to the door of their small home. Her mother spoke up quietly as they neared the entrance, earning herself a look of contempt from their guest.

"May I inquire as to why Sango's young age is displeasing to you, Sato-sama?"

"It is my duty to ensure the daimyo's son marries a suitable wife with whom he can have heirs as soon as possible. Those are dangerous times." He answered her question condescendingly.

As he left their home, she saw her mother frown at their departing guest's last words.

"Demon slayers should teach their wives their place."

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.

.

Sango stared up at the ceiling of the hut, tears running down the sides of her face, wet trails going down to her fanned out hair.

She could remember that night, could remember the announcement, the joyous celebration that one of their own would marry into a noble family, that a daughter would be in a position of power, gaining them influence and help in times of need. She also remembered one face darkening at the news, and the subsequent visit she had received from the man.

She remembered the newfound brutality and despair in his touch.

"_You're mine, little Coral." _

In her hand, she gripped tightly the unseated dagger she kept with her at all times. Shadow monsters moved around her in the darkness, dancing avidly as her mind betrayed her, having replayed once more memories more horrific than any nightmare she might have had. All around her the earth was overturned, the wall next to her bedding slashed beyond recognition.

Her body shook softly, her whole being filled with adrenaline. Sango let the dagger fall next to her head and wrapped her arms around her body, curling up in a little ball on her side.

.

.

.

In the end, she had been unable to sleep, unable to stay in the small hut where invisible shadows of past monsters stalked her and drank in her fear. Looking out into the night and gazing at the stars calmed her. The different sights and smells of this village reminded her she was not a child, nor was she a prey.

"The ceremony was beautiful, do you not think so?" The question came from behind Sango, who turned around to look at the newcomer. She smiled slightly at the dark-haired young man, crossing her arms around her knees and looking at the field in front of her, her back resting against the well. Kagome had left a few hours after the wedding ceremony and the celebrations, promising to the grumbling Inu Yasha to come back in two days. She had accompanied her to the well, as Inu Yasha sat pouting on the roof of Kaede's hut, and Shippou played with the children.

It was not often the young fox demon could be in company of those roughly of his mental age. As such, he always used any opportunity he had to do so. The children were amazingly pretty accepting of him, not perturbed by his inheritance anymore, used as they were to seeing him coming and going. Miroku had disappeared not long after they had eaten with Kaede, probably to chase young maiden she thought with a frown.

"Yes, I suppose it was." The young monk looked at the demon slayer with concern and sat down close to the female, laying his staff on the ground. Sango felt his knee brush against her as he sat down, making a rush go through her body, not unlike that of falling quickly to the ground, and being stopped before reaching it. He turned his chest slightly, looking at her before gazing away, looking at the splashes of pink and purple in the sky.

"You did not look happy at the ceremony, Sango." The mahogany-eyed woman shrugged

and then smiled, turning to her companion.

"I merely hope she will be happy and wish her the best."

"I did not know you had such a romantic heart, Sango." The young woman looked at her hands, noting unconsciously all the calluses and scars.

"Is it wrong to wish for love, Houshi-sama?" The question greatly surprised him, his eyes widening at the silent admission. He narrowed his eyes at her and reached out, touching her shoulder gently. She jumped slightly at his touch and looked up at him with uncertain if not cautious eyes.

"It is perfectly normal to wish for love, Sango." She ducked her head at his softly-spoken answer, smiling sadly to herself. She was not allowed to think about love. She was taijya. She was a demon slayer, the only female since Midoriko, and like Midoriko, she would die alone.

"Why this question, lady Sango? Is there something bothering you?" The young monk already knew something was bothering her. Whereas Kagome had reached out, he had waited and observed, noticing the small changes in her, how she smiled less, how she would go from somewhat happy to depressed and lethargic.

Sango reached inside the folds of her kimono, taking out the threat Kagome had given her the day before. Tearing the paper carefully, she broke small pieces, leaving them in the silver envelope. She offered some to the man sitting beside her, looking at the sky. A slight weight alerted her of his movements as he took a few of the pieces before she brought the rest of her treat back to her lap. She didn't answer his question, instead opting to take a piece of chocolate and let it melt in her mouth.

She felt him lean closer, his arm brushing the side of her body, making her tense up slightly, and saw the sleeve of his robe come into view as he broke another piece of the chocolate and popped it in his mouth. Only a few pieces were left, she discovered with surprise. Time had gone by, the higher part of the sky taking on a purplish blue tinge.

The young slayer looked at the monk sitting close to her, his eyes clashing with hers. His gaze was warm, a soft comforting smile gracing his lips. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached up. From the corner of her eyes she watched as his fingers came closer to her face with baited breath, her mind dazed.

His fingers brushed lightly the corner of her mouth, rubbing away a little stain of chocolate on the rosy skin. His fingers were surprisingly soft against her lips, and warm. A feeling of light-headedness took her over as he slowly cupped her cheek within a warm palm, his touch infinitely tender. The young woman closed her eyes, tears held back only by her closed eyelids as her breathing grew erratic. She swallowed with difficulty, savouring the bittersweet feeling brought by the monk's touch. Such a touch was forbidden and unknown to her. She was to never be touched, to never allow another man to get close. She pressed her cheek in his touch, her lips grazing his skin softly as she remembered her oath, her duty, her punishment.

Sango let her head fall to the side, escaping the monk's touch as she bit back a whimper. She could not let herself be tempted. She knew she would get drunk on him. She knew she would fall hard, and crash on the ground harder. The rustle of clothing alerted her of the fact he was coming closer even before his smell reached her nose. She felt one of his hands sneak at her back and pull her against his chest, the other pulling her head in the crook of his shoulder. She tensed immediately.

"Hush Sango… It's okay. Wanting love is human, Sango. Aren't we all human?" He whispered softly. His fingers ran through her hair, pulling the tie away from the lower portion of her mane. His hand came up her back to touch the nape of her neck. A shudder ran through her body and her consciousness seemingly became fuzzy, dreamy, and euphoric.

She shook her head against his shoulder, biting back a moan or a sob, or maybe both and pushed him away, standing up quickly. He looked up at her with surprise, having had to lean on his hands so as not to fall on his back. Mahogany eyes clashed with him, but all he could see in them was bottomless sorrow and longing.

"Thank you for joining me tonight, Houshi-sama. I will see you back at the village." With those words, she turned on her heels slowly, taking the path towards the village.

The young man watched her go, pity and longing in his own eyes.

She was out of his reach.

Always out of reach.

He sighed, looking up at the sky.

**End chapter 2.**

**Well, I hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you to all who read, and please, review!**


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha

**NOTICE: This story deals with incest (in this case, the sexual abuse of children). As such, some of the scenes depicted may act as triggers.**

This story will have flashbacks. However, those flashbacks are not necessarily placed in chronological order. They are in the order in which Sango is remembering them. Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

_7 years and 9 months ago_

The lord entered her rooms silently. A servant bowed at him immediately in respect. The young maid took her leave as her master waved her away with a careless flick of the wrist, his eyes never leaving his son's young wife-to-be's form.

She sat with her back straight at a low table, clothed with layers upon layers of silk kimonos, her hair done in complicated knots and folds. She was beautiful, a fine wife for his son, one who would give them the heirs needed to solidify his hold in the war taking place.

The man walked closer to her and sat on the other side of the table gracefully. Slowly, he reached under her chin with two fingers, tilting her head up and observing her face intently. A slight frown crossed his features. Her skin was definitely too dark, unfit for someone of her would-be rank. The last vestiges of her life in the village were hard to erase. He would need to remind the servants to give the young girl her lessons inside, so as to make the slightly golden glow of her skin fade.

Sango clenched her hands in her lap, uncomfortable in the apparel she had been forced to wear for a few weeks now. The lord had seen that her education as a proper lady began as soon as she came to his residence. Her old clothes had been burned, along with all of her belongings, and she had been bathed, scrubbed, perfumed, coiffed and dressed in the finest silk kimonos. Already she missed her village and her family, but knew better than to voice her feelings. The first time she had done so had earned her a scolding, the second, well... She winced. She would definitely hold back from expressing those feelings.

The lord trailed his fingertips along her jaw line and brushed the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip in a light caress. The young girl leaned in his touch slightly, confused and mistrustful, but also comforted by the tenderness in the gesture. Taking a glimpse at the older man's eyes, she could not detect the gleam she had seen in her uncle's eyes as he looked at her, nor the shine she had noticed as her father looked at her mother. The look resembled more that of a teacher studying a new student, the kind of look she had seen older demon slayers give their pupils. The look reassured her.

Slowly, the lord withdrew his hands and placed them in his lap, nodding at her softly. The raven-haired girl picked up the tea set carefully, as she had been instructed for weeks and poured tea delicately for her fiancé's father, a slight shake in her movement. Each failure had earned her to be disciplined, the punishments becoming harsher with each failed attempt. She was expected to learn quickly by her teachers.

The daimyo followed her every move intently, noting the uncertainty in her demeanour and the awkwardness of her whole being. However though, he was pleased that a girl such as her was learning this fast. Having been raised as a peasant, the girl had to be particularly ill-mannered and even a little savage-like.

He had heard of her running around barefoot and climbing trees as a boy would do. Decidedly, those taijya were very strange people. They were held in high regard, and vastly respected by many. If they so choose, they could easily amass a fortune with their calling, and yet they preferred to live like peasants.

He sipped at his tea slowly, indulging in the presence of the young girl. Delicately putting the cup back on the table, the older man beckoned Sango silently to come closer to him.

The young girl gave him an uncertain look but rose as instructed and shuffled to the other side of the table. Facing the young lord, she folded her legs and sat on her knees in front of him, her mind swirling with questions.

"It seems your lessons have been going well. I am pleased by your progress." A shy smile appeared on Sango's lips, appeased by the kind words.

The older man reached towards the girl once more, brushing his fingertips over her soft hair. He grazed his fingertips along her cheek, leaning in closer to her for a breath of a moment. She resembled so much his deceased daughter. He could not help but feel a slight twinge of affection for her.

The young girl's heart hammered in her chest, each beat echoing in her head and a flush rising to her skin. The look in his eyes had not changed, but she could not help the tendrils of fear that wrapped around her heart, making her clench her hands in her lap. Uncle had deceived her too, had hidden his intentions well.

A soft knocking sound drew the man's attention away, who then stood up swiftly and left.

The young girl slowly let her body move forwards, her forehead touching the floor, and let out a shaky sigh.

.

.

.

Morning came too soon for Sango. Getting up was a chore, as her sleep had been once more disturbed by dreams and memories of the past. Her loyal companion, Kilala sat beside her futon, watching her intently.

She looked down at the fire cat and sighed softly, putting her hand lightly on the demon's head to pet her affectionately.

"Don't worry Kilala, I'm fine." The demon merely continued to stare at her, leaning into her mistress' touch happily.

"Sango?" Miroku called out softly, glancing at the wall besides her bedding with furrowed brows. The gouges she had created with her dagger stood out starkly. She flushed as she followed his gaze, feeling embarrassed but mostly praying that he would not try to pry.

"Yes?" She replied lowly, standing up nonchalantly and brushing off the creases in her travelling kimono.

"It seems that we are alone for today. Kagome has gone back to her own time and, of course, Inu Yasha has followed her in the hope of shortening her time at home." He spoke softly, watching her roll her bedding.

"Thus, we are free to do as we please for the day, at the very least." He came forwards toward her, touching her shoulder. She startled at the touch, moving away with a quick movement of her body. He put up his hands up in a placating gesture as she eyed him with distrust.

"Now now Sango, I was merely going to offer to spend the day together."

She snorted, giving his hands a pointed look and took her belongings to a corner of the small hut, where they would not be a bother to anyone.

The young man sighed drastically, putting his cursed hand to his heart.

"Why, Sango, I'm hurt." The dark-haired woman ignored his comment, brushing past her companion with no acknowledgment of his existence. He followed her outside of the hut, smiling benignly.

She shouldered Hiraikotsu with a sigh, making her way to the forest tiredly. She could feel the monk at her back, and knew he was following her, most probably staring at her ass and trying to find the best way to catch a grope while evading her fury.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man following her. He gave her an innocent smile which she returned with a frown.

An object.

She was just an object.

A toy.

No matter what.

_Oh… Little Coral, where are you? My lovely Sango…Uncle missed you…_

She swallowed dryly and stopped, setting her large boomerang on the ground and sitting next to it. She took out a ball of wax she used to protect the surface and set to work in slow even strokes. The repetitive movement soothed her, allowed her to chase away the thoughts.

Miroku sat next to her, leaning his staff against his shoulder. He looked out at the field and started making small talk to her, to which she nodded distractedly. She tuned out his voice.

He had always been a source of conflicted emotions.

Attraction.

Sadness.

Anger.

Nervousness.

The demon slayer titled her head towards the holy man sitting beside her, examining his profile under the morning sun. One couldn't say that he wasn't a handsome man. He had sharp aristocratic features, with an infectious smile and eyes that twinkled with laughter. He was also very charismatic. One had simply to look at all his conquests to know all of this was true. Yes he was handsome, but the village also had a lot of handsome men.

Yet, she had never been attracted to someone before him. In her village, young men had kept away from her, from the girl that fought like a man, that didn't keep her place, that wasn't quiet and submissive. They kept away from the girl that was forbidden, away from the dirty and unpure one, away from the animal. Even as she had gained their respect as a demon slayer, even as she had fought and bled with them, they had never considered her as a woman.

Miroku turned his gaze way from the field and towards her, giving her a questioning if not concerned look at her lack of answer.

Sango fought down the urge to blush and met his gaze head on for a few seconds.

"Sorry. Please continue…."

She finally broke the stare and looked down at her weapon, resuming her work and trying to ignore the shifting of fabric as the young man besides her turned to look at her fully.

It wouldn't be too long now she thought. Soon, she would feel one of his hands wandering over her body, with no respect for her, for her feelings.

She knew her body was scarred. All of her battles had left marks on her, each scar having its own story, the biggest mark being the one on her back, souvenir from the night where Kohaku, possessed, killed her father and fellow slayers. She didn't have smooth skin like Kagome or most other women.

She was a slayer. Not a woman, never a woman. Nobody saw her as that and they wouldn't.

They saw the demon slayer.

She wasn't weak, wasn't submissive, wasn't beautiful.

At the last part, she felt her heart clenching. No man would ever want her for wife, if not for her scars or her attitude, then for her past. Even with her people gone, she could not escape her punishment, could not escape the destiny that had been set for her, both by the Takeda and by her uncle.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and tensed, looking down at the appendage. Even the monk didn't see her as a woman. She was a toy to grope for him, nothing more. A mere distraction when there weren't any other female around. Her eyes darkened and she looked up into the concerned gaze of her companion. She bit back a wave of revulsion, for a moment replacing those purple eyes by chestnut-colored ones, giving her a similar look and patting her head lovingly.

She offered a small smile, fake but convincing and looked back down at her weapon, using a rag to polish away any excess wax. The eyes continued to haunt her and even the repetitive movements of her hands could not stop her from losing herself in the memories.

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.

.

_11 years ago_

"Sango, my sweet Sango, wake up." The young girl lay curled up in a tight ball, her blanket fisted tightly to her chest. She kept her eyes clenched shut, tears already leaking out. She prayed and hoped that the man would leave, deterred by her lack of reactions. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched, unable to stay still at the unwanted contact.

Strong fingers closed around her shoulder and pulled, rolling her on her back. She kept her eyes closed still, her lips pressed in a thin line and her knuckles turning white. The hand let go of her shoulder and brushed her fingers reassuringly. She knew now those reassuring touches to be illusions. She did not understand. She couldn't understand. Why was uncle doing this? Why would he hurt her? This wasn't love. It couldn't be. It hurt when he came to her, when he touched her. Why, after all these years, did he continue to visit her in the night, to touch her and whisper he loved her?

Something pulled at her blanket, yet the girl held on tighter, biting back a whimper. Cool air hit her as the man took away the thin blanket previously covering her body, and she shivered.

Fear

Cold raw fear

The hand reached down to her ankle and slowly brushed its way up her leg, taking the hem of her sleeping yukata with it. Soon the soft cotton material was bunched up around her hips. Yet the hand didn't stop. It reached higher still.

She cried out, despair and pain escaping her body with a breath as she felt his touch. Another hand clamped down on her mouth as the pain inside of her body, her heart and her mind intensified with each passing second. Yet the man did not stop his unwanted touches, his breathing heavy and loud over Sango's muffled cries.

"Don't cry now Sango. It's alright, don't cry. Everything is okay." Both hands were removed from her body, allowing the little girl to cough in a breath and to curl up in what could have been a protective ball. Yet she knew it would not keep him from touching her. Nothing could protect her, nothing.

"Nothing will take you away from me." The little girl whimpered, sobbing and gurgling in her knees.

"Mommy…" The girl sobbed harder, only wishing to be in her mother's arms, to feel her comforting arms. She wanted to be anywhere but there. Anywhere in the world. Never had demons scared her as much as that man.

"Please, uncle, don't…" The child hiccupped painfully. The older man didn't pay her any mind, picking her up and sitting her on her sleeping mat. He pulled the yukata higher along her torso and the little girl, with a cry, started struggling, her hands forming little claws, trying desperately to break free, to stop the torment. She kicked out to him, blindly moving, tears and snot trailing down her puffy face.

A harsh slap on the face sent her reeling, her mind shaky and dazed at the hit. Cold air hit her whole body, as the aggressor used that opportunity to take away his niece's last protection.

Blinking dazedly, her head lolled around as one of the man's hands once more roamed her body.

Harsh.

Bruising.

Unforgiving.

In the room, soft sobs and sniffles rang out, along with the sound of man's moans.

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.

.

She felt the hand on her shoulder slip lower and brush the side of her breast. She snapped, taking her agressor's arm and twisting it behind his back so he was flat on his face on the ground. She put a knee on his back and twisted a little more his arm, earning a grunt from him. The action was done before she even realized it. She nearly let go in surprise, guilt gnawing at her heart. Her heat beat loudly in her chest and ears, even as she realized the man underneath her was not her uncle, but a friend.

"Sango?" The demon slayer bent over Miroku, careful to keep her grip tight, nearly painful, but not tight enough to break bones.

"You don't understand, do you? You never will it seems." She ground out each word while adding more strength in her grip. The man underneath her let out a shuddering breath.

"Sango, what…?" Sango closed her eyes. She could feel her heart still beating erratically in her chest, acid rising into her throat at her companion's gesture and her reaction to it.

He couldn't be like him, couldn't be like her uncle.

Couldn't.

Couldn't.

She felt a flare of fear at the thought of him touching her like HE once had.

She couldn't be a victim again.

Never again.

"I'm not your toy, monk, not your thing to grope, the thing you settle for touching because there are no females around."

"I don't see you as my toy." The words were spoken softly, as if to appease her, but it didn't. Instead, it made her pain sharper.

"You do. You don't see me as a person, as a woman. I'm nothing. You don't respect me." The monk shifted under her body as she released his arm. He twisted around carefully, leaning back on his good hand, cradling his other arm in his lap. She quickly retracted back her body, sitting back on her heels, eyes level with the object of her attraction and present turmoil. The man looked at her face and noticed the cool mask of the slayer was put in place.

"Sango, I…" Her eyes darkened and she stopped him before he could go on.

"You respect the fighter in me, the demon slayer. You respect my ability to fight, but you don't respect me, never me. You don't know how to." Slowly, she got up and looked down at the man sprawled at her feet, looking at her with hurt and bewilderment. She felt her façade crack but didn't let her pain escape.

Turning on her heels, she picked the giant boomerang and started walking back towards the village, never looking back.

**End of chapter**

Thank you to** Chibi-sango16**, **nahia2008**, **Death101-Fox Version** and **Aamalie** for your reviews. You guys are the ones making me want to continue this story!


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 4**

_7 years and 8 months ago_

"Tell me, how are your studies coming along?" Her uncertainty only intensified as the young lord stared at her. She was unsure on how to answer his question, of what was expected of her.

"Everything is well, Takeda-san." She replied demurely, trying to recall what she had been instructed. She kept her gaze down to her hands in her lap, detailing the lines of her palms in order to keep her composure. A soft touch under her chin forced her head up, until she was looking up at the man sitting close to her. He smiled slightly at her, brushing his thumb back and forth on her chin, near her lower lip.

"I am pleased then, Sango-san." She flushed slightly at the intimacy of the moment. This close, she could smell him, smell the scent of clover and incense infused in his clothing. His touch seemed gentle, but still felt domineering. His finger under her chin made her tilt her head back more, nearly to the point of discomfort. She swallowed thickly at the slight pain in her neck. Her breathing intensified and her heartbeat quickened at the vulnerable position. She was barely keeping her balance even as she sat, her throat exposed, with the older man looming above her. The skin at the back of her neck prickled, fear brewing slowly in her belly.

The man leaned closer to her quickly and touched his lips chastely to hers. The kiss was a mere brush of his lips against hers, yet her breath caught in her throat and she choked, falling back in a heap of silk robes and limbs. The movement had been so sudden, so unexpected. She immediately tried to regain her balance, preparing for what she knew might be to come.

The young lord merely sighed disappointedly and stood up. He loomed above her, looking down at her condescendingly. The look made a flush of shame color her skin.

"There is no need to be scared of me. We are, after all, to be wed as soon as possible. You will learn to accept my attentions." He caressed her cheek lightly, brushing the wisps of hair framing her face lightly aside.

_You will learn to accept my attentions._

_NO! I don't want to uncle! It doesn't feel good…_

_I want to see mommy…_

She looked around the room frantically, trying to inch from under the man standing over her. Her body shook under the strain of her fear.

.

.

.

Kagome and Inuyasha approached the village, the young raven-haired girl ignoring her companion as he pouted behind her, ears laid back against his skull. They walked towards Kaede's hut, only to find Miroku looking sombre in a corner of the village, ignoring the pretty girl fawning over him. The sight drew Kagome up short, the hanyou nearly bumping into his female companion at the abrupt movement.

Brows furrowed, she approached the young holy man, who didn't tear his gaze away from the forest.

"Miroku?" She crouched in front of the monk, moving her skirt carefully between her thighs and under her butt to avoid flashing anyone in the vicinity.

"Is everything okay?" She waved her hand in front of his eyes, finally attracting his gaze to her concerned face. She gnawed on her lower lip as she waited for his answer. He merely stared at her, seemingly in an internal debate.

"Feh! Would you tell her already!" The hanyou grunted out, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down in an intimidating manner at Miroku. The young girl fawning over him, who had been watching the exchange with interest, eep-ed silently at the look. She reluctantly left, throwing cautious looks at the half-demon as she did so. He narrowed his eyes at her, noticing her fear, prompting her to walk faster. Kagome shook her head at the sight before turning her attention back to the monk.

"Miroku….?" The young man sighed.

"It seems I may have damaged my relationship with Sango irreparably." The monk sighed, putting his head in his hands. Kagome reeled back, stunned.

"Miroku, I'm sure it can't be that bad…" She trailed off as the purple-eyed man shook his head and let out a shaky sigh.

"No Kagome… I… she… reacted quite strongly…when I ah…" Inu Yasha snorted, gathering everyone's attention.

"Feh, of course one day she'd have enough of your crap, monk. Why are you so surprised?" Kagome shot him a look to cut steel, lips pressed together in anger. They entered into a staring contest, until Inu Yasha looked away, sitting down on the ground.

"Miroku, I'm sure if you apologize…" The monk shook his head slowly, catching the eyes of the young priestess in front of him. The helplessness and sadness in his gaze tugged at her heart. She pressed one hand against the young monk's arm in support, trying to reassure him silently. He looked down at her hand on his arm despondently, letting out a shuddering sigh.

"No Kagome. She attacked me, and said things to me… I…" He trailed off as the object of their conversation approached the group. He stood up suddenly, nearly knocking Kagome back in his haste.

"Sango!" Kagome shot up like an arrow, running over to embrace the slayer. The young woman stiffened in the hold of her friend, surprised. She turned questioning mahogany eyes to that of her other friends', who regarded her silently.

"Is everything okay? Miroku…" Said young man gave her a piercing look, taking a slow step forward, but not moving to greet her. She held his gaze for a moment. The sadness and apprehension she saw in his gaze surprised her, and touched her deeply. For a minute, her resolve wavered, but she quickly hardened her heart, knowing that, even after everything that had happened, nothing had changed.

Soft hands squeezing her shoulders brought her gaze back to the girl peering up at her inquiringly. Sango forced a smile on her lips.

"No, no. Everything is good. Miroku and I had a disagreement. That is all." She returned Kagome's hug, smiling slightly to the monk in order to cover her pain.

It had not been only a disagreement, far from it. In light of everything, she knew that she needed to distance herself from the young man. He was a danger to her. She knew she was attracted to him, that some part of her longed for him, for the tenderness he had displayed. Yet, she could never be with him. It was her punishment. Moreover, he did not see her. She was a toy, another warm body, another female to enjoy and leave behind. He would not be different from others who had abused her. She didn't want to feel this pain again, nor those conflicted emotions. She couldn't allow him to get too close, to play with her and hurt her. She couldn't trust him, nor herself.

She turned her gaze to Inuyasha, who regarded her knowingly. She brightened her smile but he only smirked, as if to say he knew her secret. She knew he was suspicious of her, of the small changes in her behaviour. She had noticed him watching her thoughtfully as she woke up from her nightmares. She knew the demon had past experiences of physical abuse; she knew that, in a way, they were kindred spirits.

"Keh. Now that's settled, let's get a move on. We have shards to hunt." Sango nodded thoughtfully, releasing Kagome. She brushed off the creases in her kimono, looking to the ground thoughtfully as Miroku came closer.

Inu Yasha grabbed Kagome's arm as he made his way towards Kaede's hut to gather their things. There was a definitively new bounce in his steps. Kagome stumbled after him, looking back over her shoulder at the pair left behind, worrying her lower lip.

"Sango?" She turned her body partially towards the monk standing behind her. She evaded his hand as she saw it coming towards her shoulder. His fingertips brushed her arm lightly as he let his hand fall limply to his side. The small contact felt scorching through her kimono, startling her in the feelings it evoked. The young slayer forced a polite if not distant smile on her lips, bowing her head slightly.

"Join them, Houshi-sama. I will go get Shippou." Without awaiting his reply, she turned and walked away. Miroku watched her go, body taunt with hurt and concern. He rubbed the back of his neck, and left.

.

.

.

"C'mon!" The hanyou cried out to the group lagging a few feet behind them. They had now been walking for four hours, and everyone but the half-demon needed a break. As always, he kept pushing the group forward, eager to find the shards.

"Inu Yasha! Let's take a break!" Kagome cried out to the silver-haired man, plopping down on the ground. Everyone but the hanyou let out a sigh of relief at the thought of sitting down and drinking some water.

"Feh!" The half-demon walked over with a sullen look on his face before jumping up to sit on a tree branch. Kagome rummaged through her newly filled up bag to pass along energy bars and snacks to the members of the small group. She threw a bar up to the hanyou, who caught it in mid-air.

"Make it quick!" He barked out.

Kagome shook her head before turning her gaze to the two other human members of their group. Sango seemed to be studiously avoiding contact with Miroku, answering politely to any attempt of discussion he made. Even now, she sat further away from the man than usual, yet not far away to indicate distaste or anger. It had made for a somewhat awkward walk.

For four hours the usual chatter between the members of the group had been strained. Inuyasha had walked in the front as per usual, "encouraging" the group to move forward once in a while. Sango had either walked with Kagome, talking about the miko's stay in her family, or alone, at the back, lost in thoughts. Miroku had tried to talk to her a few times, but after failing miserably, had given up and decided to keep silent, trailing morosely behind the girls. The group dynamics had changed in the time she and Inuyasha had been gone, and in a way that she did not understand.

Kagome stared at the slayer feeding some of her food to Kilala. As if sensing the scrutiny, the older girl looked up, smiling slightly. Shippou broke the silence.

"So where are we going next?" Inuyasha landed silently next to Kagome, crouching in order to look through her pack for more food. He hungrily devoured some of the chocolate he found hidden in one of the many pockets, ignoring the younger demon's question.

"Kaede-sama asked that we go to a neighbouring village to give them some mix of herbs she grew. It seems sickness has spread and they have asked her help. I told her we'd make the detour to bring the necessary medicine." Kagome said matter-of-factly, throwing an evil look at the half demon next to her, a clear warning not to destroy the limited supply of chocolate they had on hand. He gave her a smirk, making her flush. She bit her lower lip, looking down at her lap, prompting the male to smile softly.

Sango watched the interaction with interest. Miroku cleared his throat lightly, smiling widely as he noticed the shy look the priestess threw to the white-haired man. Both suddenly startled, and flushed as they noticed the scrutiny of the group.

"Hum, where is the village?" Kagome threw a grateful look at the slayer for breaking the uncomfortable moment.

"It's to the north, maybe a few days walk..." Kagome threw a questioning look at Inuyasha, asking for confirmation.

"Four. Five at the most." Kagome let out a sigh.

"I guess we should get going if we want to make it quickly." The group packed up and started walking once more.

End of chapter

Alright everyone. So, this was a more boring chapter, I know. I have to set the stage for what is coming! Stay tuned... Things are about to get interesting!

Thanks to Nahia2008, Death101-Fox Version and AnaElise for your reviews!


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.**

**Chapter 5**

The stench of sickness and death rolled over all members of the group as they set foot in the village. Kagome turned around quickly at the sight in front of her, putting a hand to her mouth in the hope of pushing back the bile rising in her throat. Shippou clung to her shirt tightly, eyes wide in horror. She brushed her other hand through his short brown hair, pushing his face against her chest to hide the grisly sight from him.

Inu Yasha tossed a concerned look to the dark-haired girl, turning his body towards her. She looked at him over her shoulder, nodding while grimacing. He went back to the front of the group, knowing he was the best bet of protecting the group if anything happened, especially since he was more resistant to such diseases, thanks to his demon blood. The group took in their surrounding silently, keeping themselves on guard.

A few people leaned against the walls of their home, tiredness etched on their face. A few seemed to sport a fever, moving glassy eyes in their direction as beads of sweat ran down their temples to soak their shirt. Their neck seemed swollen, until there was barely any difference in size between their neck and their jaw. Their skin was pallid, their eyes red, from tiredness or from crying, they did not know.

Yet, what horrified Kagome the most was the sight of the **other** individuals. They were hunched forms, covered in some kind of black bumps, pustules it looked like. Even from afar she could smell gangrene, though she couldn't see it. Nonetheless, the clothing of these individuals was stained with blood. Dry blood even seemed caked on their skin, the rusty color adding to the horror of the unnatural black staining their skin.

Sango, Miroku and Inu Yasha moved further inside the village while Kagome took a few moments to compose herself. Inu Yasha kept a sharp eye on her even as they moved. With the progresses of modern medicine, he knew the girl from the future had not been exposed to such sights, in opposition to the other members of their group. In their time, a plague could easily destroy a village. In his years, he had seen such sights, in villages where diseases had run their course, the healthy sometimes abandoning the sick behind in order to survive, and the sick staying behind to die.

The village was nearly silent. No children ran around, and no men and women did their daily works. All activity had stopped. It was an unimaginable sight. Kaede had spoken of a village needing help for their sick, not of a plague that had left nobody untouched in one way or another. They made their way carefully towards the center of the village, scrutinizing the few people coming out of their home. The villagers leaned weakly against the doorsills as they took in the sight of the strangers coming in their village. They looked gaunt, deep purple circles under their eyes, their skin pallid. Their eyes looked feverish, glassy and empty, but not because of sickness. Those were the few individuals not sick yet, or maybe having survived being struck by the disease. They looked worse for wear, weary of caring for the others, and of seeing such pain.

A child sat huddled against the wall of a small home, knees drawn to his chest. His gaze looked lost, staring as he was at nothing. Kagome moved to go to him, to comfort him, but a hand on her arm drew her up short.

Inu Yasha pulled her back towards the group, shaking his head silently. She went to open her mouth to protest, but Miroku cut her off with a hushed whisper.

"Inu Yasha is right lady Kagome. Look at him... He could be contagious and infect you." She sighed, throwing a look over her shoulder regretfully at the child. He had not moved. Sango squeezed her shoulder in support, giving her a sympathetic look. She understood all too well how she felt. As a slayer, she had gone to such villages. Villagers had thought demons had been attacking them, had asked for their help. When they had entered the villages, they had found no demon, only the devastation and pain brought by plagues. There had been nothing they could do. Some evils are intangible.

They finally arrived to the biggest home in the center of the village, where the village's leader would live. Inu Yasha moved forward, knocking on the door firmly.

A harried man answered the door. He looked at them with dead eyes, specks of blood marring his clothing.

"Who are you?" His voice was low and tired. Kagome stepped forward, giving the man a gentle smile.

"Kaede-sama sent us, Saito-sama." The man silently opened his door wider and left his guest to enter on their own, shuffling towards another room. The group followed silently, Kagome closing the door behind them. She indicated for Shippou and Kilala to wait in this room. Even though Shippou was a demon, he was still a child, and was already traumatised enough by his parents' death, and by what he had seen in their travel. As a demon, she was certain he had not witnessed such sights before, demons being much more resilient to illnesses than humans. Any further pain she could avoid him she would do her best to. He sat down and hugged the small form of Kilala to his chest, looking around with wide eyes, nose twitching at the repugnant smells floating about. The neko settled down in his lap and started purring reassuringly.

The older members of the group followed Hiroshi Saito in the other room, where a young woman lay. A wave of odours washed over them, a mix of old blood, gangrene and waste. Sango wrinkled her nose at the scent, while Miroku fought the urge to cover his lower face with the sleeve of his robes. Inu Yasha grimaced at the stench. In such close quarters, all the scents coming from the sick were intensified. Kagome hung back as the group moved closer to the shuddering form.

The skin they could see was covered in black pustules, some oozing blood and pus. What had been a beautiful young woman now looked mangled, and emaciated. Her facial features were barely recognizable, swollen as her face was. Blood and waste stained her bedding. Their mind rebelled at such a grisly sight. The young woman let out a low moan, her body contorting in pain.

"What ails this village Saito-sama?" Miroku whispered gently, mindful of their host. Hiroshi kneeled next to the young woman, wiping at her brow with a wet rag, careful not to apply pressure to the pustules covering her face.

"We do not know, Houshi-sama." He paused, caressing the long black hair of the frail woman in front of him. With a sigh, he gestured to his guests to sit.

"I am sorry for meeting you in such conditions." He hesitated, flicking his eyes from the form of his daughter to that of his guests. He swallowed thickly, forcing his next words out, unwilling to accept their reality.

"I fear my daughter may not have long, and wish to stay at her side at all times." His eyes shone wetly, but he held back his tears with a shake of his head. He gestured to the group to sit down wherever they please. The group stayed silent as Hiroshi gathered his thoughts.

"This plague started two weeks ago. A few children and elders came down with a fever, a cough, a sore throat. That's when I sent a messenger for Kaede-sama. It's nothing unusual in this time of the year, but we needed the herbs." He stopped speaking, turning to dampen his daughter's forehead with a rag as she moaned painfully, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Kagome clenched her hands around her skirt in her lap as she looked on, trying to fight back her own tears at the sight. Looking at the others, she could sense that they were all uncomfortable witnessing a father's mourning at his daughter's impending death. Hiroshi cleared his throat as his daughter fell into a deep sleep once more.

"Suddenly, it worsened. The sicks' bodies became covered in these black pustules. More and more villagers became sick, and before long, nearly the whole village was affected. Very few have not been infected by this." He paused, looking down at his hands with a self-depreciating smile. Sango gave him a look of sympathy. Survivor's guilt. She understood all too well.

The members of the group looked at each other warily. They had seen or heard of deathly or very infectious diseases, but nothing to this extent.

"Have there been any deaths yet?" Miroku spoke up. The other man took a moment before answering, gazing blankly at the wall.

"A few deaths a day for eight days now. I'd say about twenty people, mostly children and the elderly. No one that got sick has recovered as of yet and the disease is now striking the young and healthy." He looked at them pleadingly, despair shining from the depths of his eyes. The group watched him, overwhelmed. There was nothing they could do to help this man's daughter; they knew it and so did he. Yet, they could see a sliver of hope in the way he regarded them.

Kagome looked at the rest of the group, giving them a questioning look. Sango nodded and so did Miroku. Inu Yasha glared back, shaking his head. Kagome raised her chin and looked at him dead on, until his ears went back against his skull and he nodded, pouting lightly. She knew Inu Yasha didn't want to give the villagers fake hope, that he didn't think they could do anything, but she wanted to try. If there was anything she could do to help, she would do it.

The priestess smiled and stood up, bowing to their host.

"If you'd excuse us, Saito-sama. We'll go speak in another room about this." The group followed Kagome silently, respectful of the young dying woman and her father. Said man didn't look up from his daughter, brushing his fingertips along her temple gently. Kagome looked on with sadness from the doorsill, before turning to the group.

"This looks eerily like black smallpox to me, but it doesn't fit. This spread too quickly." Miroku crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the ground pensively. Kagome continued on.

"Plus black smallpox isn't a disease in itself, it's a form of smallpox. Smallpox kills, but not everyone it touches. Something's wrong here. It's not natural." Kagome trailed off, brow furrowed as she searched her memory for any disease she knew that could cause such symptoms. Nothing came to mind. Miroku shook his head.

"I agree with Kagome. There is something weird about this whole situation. I've never seen a plague like this one." He looked at Inu Yasha and Sango in askance.

"I've never seen anything as such either." Sango commented softly, throwing a look at the man hunched over his daughter, his shoulders now shaking silently. InuYasha nodded in agreement.

Kagome sighed, raking a hand through her hair. She continued mulling through all of the diseases she knew, all the ones that could cause such awful symptoms and a quick painful death, all the ones that had killed through the centuries. A disease such this one would have left a trail in history, would not have suddenly appeared and just as quickly disappeared, but she could not recall ever hearing about an epidemic like this one.

Nothing.

There was nothing she could think of. The fact that none of the others in the group had ever heard or encountered something like this either didn't bode well.

"We'll go talk to the villagers, see what they have to say." The group nodded silently as Inu Yasha threw a quick look to Hiroshi, who was now wiping blood from his daughter's mouth as she coughed up the dark red liquid all over herself. He grimaced at the sight.

"We'll split up. Kagome, you're with me. Sango, Miroku, you're together." Sango opened her mouth to protest but closed it with a snap at the glare the hanyou threw at her. She did not wish to spend more time than necessary with the monk, but knew to pick her battles. She knew Inu Yasha would want to stick with Kagome, would want to insure her protection himself. Even if the two were obvious to each other, she wasn't.

"Stick. Together." The half-demon grounded out, pointing a finger at her. Sango hung her head and left silently, resigned to her fate. Miroku followed closely, throwing a curious but thankful look at the white-haired man over his shoulder.

"Shippou, you stay here with Kilala." The young demon nodded, for once having no problem complying with the older demon's wishes.

Inu Yasha turned to the miko at his side to find her smiling up at him. His ears moved back to flatten against his skull.

"What?" The young woman only smiled wider, putting her arm through his.

"Nothing." She shook her head, and pulled him along towards the door.

.

.

.

Sango walked stiffly in front of Miroku, trying hard to ignore the look she could feel burning on the back of her neck. She entered one of the small houses quickly but respectfully. The interior looked to be empty, but in such instances, she knew impressions could be deceiving. Some individuals could have no family members left to take care of them, and thus would be confined in their home, unable to do much more than stay in bed. Moving forward carefully, she made her way towards a smaller side room, the only other one in the home. A figure laid in bed, seemingly motionless. She moved deeper in the room, inching closer to the person.

No movement.

No breathing.

Dead.

They would need to notify the village's leader, to ensure this person receive a proper burial.

Squinting in the dimness of the room, she finally noticed the blood soaked in the bedding underneath the figure, as well as the wet shine of blood covering his skin. She gasped. Immediately saliva pooled in her mouth as she became nauseous, the stench of rotten flesh and human waste thick in her mouth and nose.

Shaking her head, she backed up quickly and bumped into a warm wall. An arm wrapped around her waist in support, ensuring that she did not fall. For a short moment, she froze. She could feel the length of his body pressed against hers. He felt solid against her back. His warm breath fanned on the nape of her neck. She fought back a shudder at the dual sensations of horror at what was in front of her, and of the man she felt conflicted about at her back.

She moved out of his hold with a sudden jerk and turned to make her way out of the room, trying to avoid any further touching as much as possible. Miroku moved quickly, grasping her hand tightly.

"Sango... please..." She turned to the young man with an inquiring look. She knew what he was asking, all the questions that those two words held. She was not ready to answer those questions.

"What is it, Houshi-sama?" The look of sadness he sent her shook her, but she shielded herself against its effect. He brushed his thumb back and forth against the inside of her wrist, trying to plead with her silently. The small contact felt intimate and was meant to recreate any kind of connection between them. He needed her to talk to him. She had not said anything of value to him since that night. She had been polite, true, but she felt cold and distant. Yet, she seemed unmoved and uncaring as he let down his walls. After a few moments he let go of her wrist, sighing, and shook his head.

"Later... We should continue for now..." The slayer nodded and they left this home towards another one.

.

.

.

In the last hour or so, they had gone through a few smaller houses and huts, and spoken to a few individuals. They had learned nothing more than what the village leader had told them.

Miroku turned to watch Sango as he spoke with a young man. The young man's younger sister sat next to her mother's bedding. The older woman cradled a baby against her body, one that was obviously just as sick as she was. The young girl had silent tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched her mother and younger sibling. Even though he evaluated her to be around five years old, she sucked on her thumb rhythmically.

Sango crouched on the other side of the room, close to the little girl, speaking to her lowly. The girl nodded once, and Sango fell silent. Yet, she still continued to give silent comfort, alternating between moving her hand up and down her back gently and brushing her hair back. Cold logic told him that Sango was endangering herself and others with her behaviour, taking the risk of contracting the disease from the little girl and then passing it on. However, she seemed so moved by the sight of this little girl that he did not dare interfere.

He noticed the slayer's eyes becoming glassy as she gazed at the young girl.

.

.

.

_7 years and 4 months ago_

The ebony-haired child sat next to her mother's bed, her little brother sleeping with his head in her lap. The woman's breathing was laboured, and with each exhalation, the child could hear a slight wheezing. It was now winter and times were difficult. The season was particularly harsh this year, and food was in limited quantity in the village. A wave of sickness had fallen over the village.

"You saved me, mother." She reached out one hand to her mother's, squeezing the limp appendage lightly. The gesture was meant to be comforting. The mother tried her best to squeeze her daughter's hand in return, but she could only muster the energy to twitch her fingers.

The woman shook her head, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes and disappearing into her ebony-coloured hair. The older woman gathered all of her energy and raised her hand weakly from her daughter's hold to cradle her cheek lightly, rubbing her thumb on the child's cheekbone. Anguished eyes held those of her child, tears now falling at a faster rate and creating tear tracks on her pallid skin. There was so much to say, and so little time left. She knew she would not recover from this, knew that death was coming for her. Every day her condition worsened, the fevers lasting longer and her chest hurting more. Now her mouth had the taste of blood when she coughed. She had seen her mother die from this. Yes, she knew it would not be long now. She gathered the strength she had left, and prayed to be able to say what needed to be said.

"I fear I may have damned you, Sango. Forgive me." Lids closed slowly, hiding the pain and guilt eating at a mother's heart, for not being able to defend her child, for thrusting her into a life she would learn to hate, and for having to leave her to her fate.

"Mother?" The young girl asked uncertainly, alarmed by both her mother's words and the sudden hitch in her breathing. These words held so much meaning, some that she scrambled to grasp.

"Sango… my butterfly…." Sobs shook the older woman's body, mixing in with violent coughing, her body curling on itself at the pain, both emotional and physical.

"Mother!" Sango cried out, hugging her little brother's body tighter to her chest and leaning over to touch her mother's hair, frantic and unsure on how to help her. Her mother lay back down limply, lids opening sluggishly to reveal glassy and mournful eyes. Someone entered their hut, standing back respectfully. Sango did not pay him or her any mind, brushing her small fingers in her mother's sweat soaked tresses tenderly.

"Mo…ther…" The name was whispered, the syllables broken with fear and uncertainty.

"Sango... butterfly…protect Kohaku…ne?" The bedridden woman forced a small reassuring smile on her lips, holding her daughter's gaze seriously. Kohaku started whimpering, bringing his knees tighter to his chest and clutching at his sister's kimono edges. The young girl looked down at the sleeping boy in her lap, the child with gentle brown eyes, a mop of dark hair and freckles on his nose. She brushed her fingers lightly through his hair. He sighed against her knees, burrowing further against her body for additional warmth.

Her little brother.

"_Protect the weak."_

She tore her gaze from the boy huddled in her lap to the now sleeping woman in front of her. A sudden touch on her shoulder made her jump, and she turned around quickly, her arms hovering above Kohaku's form protectively. The old village healer gave her a gentle smile.

"You should let your mother rest, little one, she needs it." Sango nodded softly, shaking Kohaku awake and making her way outside with the sleepy child.

A few weeks later, Sango stood in front of her mother's grave, her eyes dry but her heart heavy with grief, her crying brother cradled against her side.

"_Protect Kohaku."_

_._

_._

_._

Sango jumped at the touch of a small hand in hers. The child looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, imploring silently for comfort. Sango sighed and picked her up, cradling her against her chest. The little girl leaned weakly against her, burying her face in her long hair and closing her eyes as she continued to suck on her thumb. Sango threw a look over her shoulder at the men conversing in low tones. Warm purple eyes caught her, prompting her to look away, and back to the dying woman in front of her.

There was nothing she could say to this child to take away the pain of losing her mother.

Nothing.

Helpless.

She was powerless to do anything, even as this woman died in front of her, hands curled into claws in her bedding as the disease ate through her flesh. She could do nothing to shield the child in her arms from the reality of growing up without a mother's guidance. She could not prepare the young man talking to Miroku for the hardship of raising his younger sister alone.

Yet, what horrified her the most was the sight of the warped form of the child in the woman's arms.

The infant's face and body were puffy with black pustules, until his features were nearly impossible to discern. Blood oozed slowly from his mouth and nose, his eyes nearly swollen shut. He was silent, only the wheezing sound of his breathing indicating he was alive. Kohaku's features as a child this age floated for a second above that of the dying babe's. Tears sprung in her eyes as she regarded the small being, dying before having a chance to live.

She swore to herself that, if this was unnatural, if a demon or a human was behind this, he would pay dearly for the lives taken.

She would make sure of it.

"_Protect the weak."_

**End of chapter**

Sooo I felt kinda guilty about the less than stellar chapter I posted and worked extra hard to get this new chapter out quickly! I hope that you enjoyed. Big thanks to **Death101- Fox Version**, **nahia2008** and **Otaku-SIG** for their reviews!


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.**

**Chapter 6**

Miroku looked Sango over as they made their way back to the village leader's home. She had not said a word since they had left the young family behind. She seemed pensive, if not haunted, looking at the ground with glassy eyes. Finally, he put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her movements. She halted but still moved away from his touch, prompting him to let his hand fall limply to his side. The small rejection hurt, to be truthful, but he swallowed and buried it, knowing that now was not the time.

"Sango?" He asked concernedly. She offered him a small smile over her shoulder, and shook her head.

"I'm fine." She offered, instinctively knowing he was asking about what had happened at the sick woman's and baby's hut. Truth was, she wasn't fine, but, really, she had not been fine for a while now, she had to admit to herself. What she had worked so hard on burying deep inside of herself had came back to haunt her. It seemed one could not outrun their past, not forever, and especially not when the source of the haunting was something a person carried inside. Even though the fear and pain had somewhat faded, buried under years of training and the need to protect her brother, the memories had not. She shook her head and started walking once more.

"Let's go." Miroku followed, letting out a sigh. She was still closed off to him, still unwilling to talk to him. Later though, when this mess was behind them, he would force her to talk to him, to let him know what had changed.

Inu Yasha and Kagome were waiting for them when they got back, talking quietly. Hiroshi had not moved from his daughter's side, sipping tea as he watched over her.

"Nothing?" Kagome asked. Miroku and Sango shook their head, making Kagome rake her hand through her hair in frustration. Their little trek had been useless. They had seen more suffering, and had found nothing more. What could they be missing? What else could they look into? They did not have the technology in this time to study this disease, and to bring a sample back to the future would be asking for troubles. With the expansion of population in metropolitan areas, and with the amount of travelling done every day, a plague could wipe out a good chunk of the world population within a year. She couldn't take the chance.

The cold logic behind her choice made her feel extremely guilty. Lives would be lost in this time, partly because she refused to risk the future. Such a horrible death. The thought suddenly made her feel lightheaded.

"The dead!" She exclaimed. The group looked at her, puzzled at her outburst.

"What of the dead? Where are they? Maybe we could learn something from their…bodies." Kagome explained. Saito entered the room silently, having heard Kagome's sudden loud comment.

"They are in a pit behind the village." The group turned towards him. The sudden interest the group showed him seemed to make him nervous. He looked away shamefully, rubbing at his face with the palms of his hands. He nearly swayed on his feet as he spoke to his guests, weary and broken.

"There were too many, and we were too weak to continue digging graves." He explained, his voice hoarse. Kagome put a hand on his shoulder in comfort, throwing him an understanding look. They weren't judging him for this. She glanced at Inu Yasha, who nodded in return.

"We'll go. You stay here. We can find it." Inu Yasha said gruffly. He could smell the putrid scent of decaying bodies all too well, and knew where the bodies were. Kagome smiled at him as he looked at her. He found himself unsure of what the expression meant, of why she smiled with approval and gentleness for no apparent reason. Fighting back the heat he could feel rising over his skin, he turned abruptly and stalked out of the leader's house.

He led them slowly through the village, ignoring pleas from the villagers to help them. There was nothing they could do for them as of right now. The stench grew stronger and stronger as they moved towards the pit. They could now see a hole filled with indistinct shapes, which grew clearer as they approached.

Miroku gasped in sharply as they approached the pit, and instantly regretted it as he gagged on the smell of rotting flesh. He bit back his nausea and turned his gaze to Kagome, scrutinizing her reaction. She shivered as she surveyed the pit and wrapped her arms tightly around her body for comfort.

"Kagome?" Miroku said inquiringly. Everyone turned their gaze towards the young miko. Inu Yasha moved closer to the young girl protectively, watching her closely.

"I feel it Miroku." Sango and Inu Yasha turned their gaze to the monk in curiosity. The slayer moved closer to the pit, trying to discern what the two were feeling. There was nothing there from her point of view. Inu Yasha fought the urge to scent the air to find out what they were talking about, knowing that he would regret doing so if he did. As it was, he was breathing through his mouth and he had to fight the urge to retch from the putrid smell permeating the air.

Kagome inched closer to Inu Yasha, fighting her desire to start clinging to him for comfort. She knew she would have nightmares for months because of this day, and seeing that pit would not help. She hardened herself, knowing that later she would have the luxury of falling apart, but that now was not the time.

"Alone the traces were too faint to feel, but with these bodies pilled together..." Miroku spoke lowly, crossing his arms over his chest. Kagome nodded, accepting the explanation for what it was, since Miroku was better-versed in the mythical stuff than she was. She looked at Inu Yasha and Sango, who wore identical expressions of interest, although Inu Yasha's was tainted by his usual impatience.

"This plague was influenced by a demon in some way or another. I'm not sure how, but I can feel the demonic energy…" The miko trailed off.

Sango tightened her hand around her boomerang strap, mouth set in a tight line.

_The infant's face and body were puffy with black pustules, until his features were nearly impossible to discern. Blood oozed slowly from his mouth and nose, his eyes nearly swollen shut._

Oh yes, somebody would pay for this.

.

.

.

"What next?" The young fox demon's question resumed well the thoughts of all the adults in the room. What to do now with what they knew?

"Are you sure Saito-san that no demon was seen by any of the villagers?" The harried man nodded.

"No sighting? No weird occurrences? No one acting out of character?" He shook his head at the demon slayers' questions. Kagome looked at the ground pensively.

"Any passerby's?" She asked quietly, looking up at Hiroshi. The older man hesitated.

"A few… no one suspect though…" Sango nodded. She knew that some demons passed easily for humans. She wasn't talking about demons like Sesshoumaru or Naraku. There was something otherworldly about both demons, especially the former. Even though they might not know what it was that attracted their attention, people noticed Naraku. There were other demons though, that looked so human they could fool even demon slayers, and sometimes less experienced mikos. What better disguise than that of your prey? They were silent predators that would infiltrate a village and pluck its inhabitants like a child plucking the legs off a spider. If they were pitted against one such demon, their quest would be more than difficult.

"Heard any rumours of other villages?" Inu Yasha broke the silence. The others looked at him in surprise. Kagome looked at him pensively before she brightened, finally figuring out what he meant with his weird sentence.

"Inu Yasha's right! If it's a demon, he might have moved on to other villages." Hiroshi swallowed thickly.

"A messenger came with a small group of soldiers, about a week ago." He hesitated, looking at the group.

"The daimyo acquired all of the herbs of the village we would have otherwise used to cure the villagers. He needed them to threat his army. That's why we called on Kaede-sama." Sango looked at the ground, lost in thoughts.

"Saito-sama, do you know if it was the same sickness as this one he needed the medicinal herbs for?" Miroku inquired. Hiroshi shook his head before throwing a look over his shoulder at his daughter's prone form, clearly yearning to get back to her as soon as possible. Kagome gave him a gentle smile and indicated to him with a move of her chin to go back to his daughter. They watched him go before continuing their conversation.

"It's obvious to me we need to get to the daimyo. He would know more about what is going on in his province, especially if he took all the herbs from the villages on his territory." Kagome stated softly. The members of the group all nodded slowly. Their quest would be like searching for a needle in a haystack if they set to find villages that were touched by this disease. The daimyo was their best bet.

"Who's the daimyo of this part of Japan?"

"Houjyou." Sango answered Kagome's question promptly. Miroku shook his head.

"No Sango. The Takeda are the family in control right now." She gave him a sharp look, standing straighter.

"The Houjyou…" He cut her off quickly, standing his ground.

"… have lost part of their territory to the Takeda in the last month or so." She closed her mouth with an audible click, her teeth gridding together. He gave her a puzzled look, not understanding why she was so angry with him for straightening out her facts. Kagome sighed, looking from the slayer to the monk and back, as puzzled as Miroku by the slayer's reaction. The tension built as both continued to stare at each other, before Sango turned away to go look outside through a window, putting her back to the group.

"How long of a walk?" Miroku ran a hand through his hair, pulling strands out of his dragon tail, assessing silently the distance.

"About four or five days at the most. Less if you carry Kagome and Sango and I ride Kilala." Inu Yasha nodded.

"We're leaving. Get ready." Inu Yasha ordered, leaving the four behind to go talk to their host.

.

.

.

Miroku watched the gentle slope of Sango's back as they rode on Kilala. The slayer costume she wore moulded to every one of her curves. He tightened his hands on his staff, holding on tightly in order not to fall, but also to resist the urge to touch her. Underneath them, Kagome clung to Inu Yasha as he ran, clutching her thighs around his hips.

They had been traveling for three days now, barely stopping to eat and sleep.

Inu Yasha screeched to a halt, making a cloud of dust rise up. Kilala slowly lowered herself next to them, floating in place.

"Night will fall soon." Kagome wiggled on his back until he let go of her legs. She slid down his back, carefully putting her feet on the ground. A blush rose to her cheeks as she felt his nails scratch lightly against the skin of her thighs at the movement. Trying to cover up her embarrassment, she studiously began stretching her legs. They felt cramped from being in the same position for hours. Yet the unpleasant sensation was nearly forgotten in the light of Inu Yasha's touch. She looked at him from under lowered eyelids, still making a show of stretching. He was talking to Sango and Miroku, hands on his hips. It seemed to her that the hanyou had grown. She had known for a long time he cared about others underneath that gruff exterior, but chose to bury the feeling as a consequence of past experiences. It seemed to her though that he chose to show it more now. This change pleased her, made her even more proud of whom he was. She glanced away quickly as he made his way towards her.

"What's going on?" She asked as she noticed Miroku and Sango fly away atop Kilala.

"They're checking out the view. Seeing if we're close to any village." She nodded, watching them fly up in the distance. She smiled as she noticed Inu Yasha glancing longingly at her bag when he thought she wasn't looking.

Ramen for diner it was.

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.

.

Miroku straightened up as they rose in the sky, hoping to discern any man made structure indicating they were close to a village. They had encountered a few villages on their way so far, and apart from inquiring about the health of the villagers, they had made sure to avoid any further contact. Time was of the essence, and they already knew what they would find, if their suspicions were correct. So far, all the villages had shown some symptoms. The further they travelled though, the less advanced the disease seemed to be. In the last village, only one villager had died so far, his body riddled with black pustules oozing blood.

The monk turned his gaze to the slayer in front of him, who squinted at the dying light of the last rays of sunshine. She held herself tensely, making sure to avoid any physical contact with him. It was slightly insulting, how she could not bring herself to even touch him as they rode on Kilala. He was not going to molest her like a rabid dog, no matter what she seemed to think of him.

_"I'm not your toy, monk, not your thing to grope, the thing you settle for touching because there are no females around."_

The thought resonated in his head as he watched her bend over to reach Kilala's ear, whispering to the cat demon gently and brushing her fingers through the fur at her neck.

"_You don't see me as a person, as a woman. I'm nothing. You don't respect me."_

He felt his heart clench as he remembered the harsh words. Harsh, but also so very far from the truth. He saw her as a woman, a beautiful, strong woman. A woman so out of his reach.

His behaviour was lecherous. He could not deny it. In the uncertainty of his existence, he needed something to remember he was alive, something to make him forget the death that awaited him, the death that with each day, got closer. He could feel its fetid breath on the back of his neck as it whispered that soon, so very soon, it would take its due. Seducing young women, touching them, kissing them, whispering sweet lies in their ears allowed him to forget for a moment. He did not care that others saw him as frivolous. He wanted them to see him so, to hide from them the pain and fear that ate at him, and to ensure they would not remind him of it with questions and platitudes.

"_You respect my ability to fight, but you don't respect me, never me. You don't know how to." _

He squeezed his staff tighter as her words reverberated in his head. He admired Sango, and respected her for what she had gone through, losing her family and her village, and continuing to live in order to free her brother and destroy the menace that was Naraku. He was also attracted to her, to her strength, to her loyalty and to her caring nature. Of course, she was also a beautiful girl, even though she wasn't as voluptuous as the girls he himself usually preferred.

He often found himself torn between wanting her, wanting to go further, to seduce her, and knowing that losing himself in her for a few moments was not worth losing her forever, or hurting her. He could see how fragile she was underneath the mask she wore, for reasons unknown. Shyness maybe, or losing those she loved in such a brutal fashion. Treating her like he treated those other girls would harm her.

Yet, if he forgot about the future that awaited him for an instant, and if he allowed himself to be truthful, he wanted more from her than a few moments. He sometimes caught himself reaching out for her, like during the night they shared a caramilk.

Instead, he bit back those urges. He groped her, and flirted overtly with her, never really trying to win her heart but making sure she stayed out of his reach. Yet, it seems that, in his clumsy attempts, he had driven her away, had hurt her in such a way that she could not bear anymore to look at him or even be close to him.

Suddenly, a few more days or a few more weeks of this cold silence seemed unbearable. He tightened his hold on his staff and brought one end slowly up, until it crossed her body from one shoulder to the opposing hip. She barely noticed, still looking around. With a quick jerk he tugged her close to his body, trapping her form against his with his staff.

Sango gasped as she was suddenly jerked backward against a warm body. Kilala turned to look over her shoulder at the sudden movement but quickly looked away, ignoring the two humans on her back. For a moment, Sango let herself fall back against the man behind her, stunned. She quickly regained her wits and started fighting his hold, anger igniting deep inside her belly. She gritted her teeth, and strove to calm herself, to remind herself that she was not trapped by someone who wished to harm her or abuse her.

"Let me go." She grounded out, the words nearly a growl. Miroku pushed his body against hers, wrapping his arms around her form carefully. Her words made his brow furrow, the deep anger and fear he could hear resonating surprising him in their intensity.

"Sango...please...talk to me..." He whispered gently, holding her as tenderly as he could in this situation.

"Let. Me. Go." She shoved at him with her back, the panic building in her mind. She searched her thighs for weapons but found none, having left them with Inu Yasha and Kagome to decrease the load on Kilala's back. There was only a dagger in the back of her boot, one that she couldn't reach easily in this position. As soon as the thought went through her mind, she slumped. She had thought of attacking Miroku with a blade. And for what? For holding her against her will? He was Miroku. She let her body fall limp, leaning back against him, tears building in her eyes.

"Let me go, Miroku, please..." The heartfelt plea, along with the use of his name surprised him, and he let his arms fall down from her torso to her waist, still encircling her, but weakly enough that she could break out if she wished. He didn't understand what had happened. She had reacted strongly to his touch, angrily and fearfully trying to escape his clutch, yet now she seemed defeated, her head lolling against his shoulder gently. He tried to look at her eyes, to see if maybe her mahogany orbs would give anything, but her bangs hid them from his sight.

"Why won't you talk to me, Sango?" He whispered, splaying the fingers of one hand on her stomach. He fought the urge to start babbling and concentrated on her next words instead, hoping that she would relent.

"There is nothing wrong, Miroku." Sango steeled herself against the warmth spreading through her body at his touch, against the sensations his closeness incited deep inside of her body, and looked up at the man behind her. Pleading purple eyes clashed with empty mahogany ones. Sango brought one hand and put it on top of Miroku's, bringing the fingers spanning her stomach together with a quick squeeze. She smiled.

The lie came easily to her lips.

She watched as he scrutinized her face, looking for signs of deceit. She brought her index and thumb on the top and bottom of his wrist respectively. With a quick jerk of her hand, she squeezed as hard as possible, eliciting a gasp of pain out of his lips. He removed his hand from her body with a jerk and leaned back, freeing her from his hold.

The slayer quickly leaned forward and nudged Kilala towards the ground. Miroku clutched his throbbing wrist to his chest, looking at the back of the head of the taijiya sadly.

End of chapter

Alright! A new chappie with some Miroku-Sango interaction...and the plot is thickening! I hope that you guys enjoyed. And please, review, whether you like it or not, let me know!

And! Big thanks to **chibi-sango16**, **Death101-Fox Version** and **Otaku-Sig** for their reviews!


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.**

**Warning:** This chapter contains pedophilia, and flashbacks of sexual abuse by a family member.

**Chapter 7**

Sango trailed behind the group, ignoring Kilala who stared at her curiously.

The slayer could not get what had happened out of her head.

She could nearly see herself in her mind, reaching down for the knife at the back of her boot as Miroku held her. She could imagine sliding the blade silently and stealthily out from the leather, moving it along her thigh and then making an arc as she cut the tendons at his elbow and wrist, rendering his arm useless. A more vicious image popped in her mind unbidden. She could have moved the knife until she reached the underside of his arm, between the elbow and armpit, and then sliced at his sleeve and skin, cutting the brachial artery.

The blood.

She knew there would have been blood, so much of it. The bright red liquid would have soaked his robes, and ran into Kilala's fur as he bled out.

Death in a few minutes.

_Animal!_

She sighed, dropping her chin to her chest. Yes, what she had thought of doing haunted her. She had wanted to hurt him, and for what, really? Holding her? Touching her without her approval? Such a gesture did not deserve death, or an injury that would handicap him for the rest of his life.

_Animal!_

_._

_._

_._

_7 years, 7 months and 3 weeks ago_

Sango gazed passively at the young lord who watched her as he sat primly next to her. Rikuto took a sip of his tea, enjoying the taste before swallowing.

He nodded his approval.

She slumped slightly in relief before straightening up quickly, hoping that he had not noticed the small move. Such a mistake would cost her dearly now, since her training had been going on for a while. Small mistakes were reprimanded more harshly every time she made them, the rationale being that she knew better and such mistakes were caused by her laziness or carelessness.

To her relief, the young lord said nothing, putting his cup down. He turned towards her.

"We will be wed soon." She nodded softly, keeping her features schooled in a pleasant mask. Since their last encounter, they had not spent much time together. He had come a few times to have tea with her, keeping the conversation to her studies or the gardens. Each of their meetings felt awkward. What made it worse is that, even though he came to see her, it was obvious he cared nothing about her. She'd seen him look at her, seen the glimpse that she knew all too well from her uncle's eyes. She'd also seen the dismissal in his eyes, the way that he looked at her but didn't see her. She was a belonging at the least, an investment at the most.

The thought that this would be her life, being seen but being quiet, being still and impassive as the world lived on and changed saddened her.

Yet she knew her family, and she herself, had been bestowed a great honour. Being accepted in this family meant much for her whole village, and ensured that the daimyo looked kindly upon them. Her position would allow some leverage; she may be able to intercede with her husband should her village be in need. She could not allow her own selfish happiness to be more important than the survival of her peers.

A finger brushed down her cheek lightly, and then lower, trailing over her jaw and her neck. She tensed and bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. The touch made her feel strange. It was somewhat pleasant, but left her feeling ambivalent. It was light, and non-threatening, but the girl still felt scared and unsure.

She looked up, catching Rikuto's eyes.

They were hooded and dark, revealing nothing of his intentions. Her breathing accelerated, her heart rate picking up.

She told herself not to panic at the touch. This was her husband to be. She may be only nine years old, still a few years away from their marriage, but she already belonged to him. She breathed in deeply, and told herself to stay still and accept the innocent touch.

Rikuto trailed his fingers lower and along the collar of her kimono, pulling gently. Sango's mouth went dry.

Accept.

Be still.

He brushed his hand along her hair and cupped the back of her head, leaning towards her.

Logic flew out of the window.

She fell back in a flurry of legs, arms and kimono folds. This time though, the young lord followed her movements, and lay atop of her. He ignored the sound of the low table flying away as she kicked one of the legs in her descent. Broken pieces of porcelain spread on the ground on their right, not touching their bodies but dangerously close. He put his legs on either side of her hips, his fingers passing over her lips.

Sango closed her eyes tightly, her muscles bunching up, but leaving her unable to move. Thoughts flew quickly through her mind, but fear tainted them all. She feared what he would do to her and what punishment would await her should she try to stop him.

He moved his hand to her neck, grasping it and stroking his thumb along her thumping artery.

"_I'll show you how much I love you, and you'll show me too, okay?" He slowly leaned down, kissing her on the lips._

She bit on her lower lip until she tasted hot iron, trying to ignore the feeling of the man's legs pressed against her hips, of his hand on her neck, holding her in such a vulnerable position. The young lord trailed his fingertips along the edges of her jaw tenderly.

"Do not fear me, Sango...I only wish to get to know you..." His voice was low and gentle but also filled with hints of desire. This desire scared her even more, especially when she knew that soothing words whispered in a gentle voice sometimes hid the worst intentions. She breathed out shakily, unaware that she had been holding her breath in the first place. Rikuto moved his fingertips along the edges of her kimono and leaned down to loom above her, detailing her face.

"_Please, uncle, don't…" The child hiccupped painfully. The older man didn't pay her any mind, picking her up and sitting her on her sleeping mat._

Sango reached out to the side, fingers digging into the tatami floor until it felt like her nails would get torn off of her fingers. At a sharp sudden pain, she let go and looked to the side. For a second she was entranced by the sight of her blood on white porcelain, a broken piece of a teacup in her fist.

Rikuto's fingers trailed to her chin, bringing her gaze back to his, and he leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. She clenched her hand around the broken porcelain, concentring on the pain to bit back the sob bubbling up inside of her.

She shut her eyes tightly.

Accept.

Be still.

His tongue brushed her lower lip and then dug at the seams of her lips, trying to breach the seal of her mouth.

The young lord above her reeled back with a strangled gasp. The dark-haired girl opened her eyes in surprise and gasped in horror. Rikuto looked at her, his expression one of shock as he clutched his shoulder. A piece of broken porcelain protruded from between his fingers, blood already starting to soak his kimono.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Sango brought her hands up to cover her mouth, staining her skin red. Horror and panic bubbled inside of her belly.

She could not remember having done it, but it had to have been her.

One moment she had been clutching a piece of porcelain in her hand.

The next...

She had hit his shoulder, meaning to push him away. She hadn't thought about the piece of porcelain in her hand in her panic.

She had stabbed him.

She let her hands fall down from her mouth and crawled closer to the man she had injured.

Sango suddenly found herself on the ground, her cheek throbbing. For a few seconds, she pressed her cheek against the cool surface of the floor, blinking dazedly. A sudden pain in her stomach stole her breath. She bit down on her tongue as she was pushed back from the strength of the physical blow.

The pain she felt blazing through her head and stomach sucked all of her thoughts and feelings out of her mind, leaving her feeling numb. She shook back the cobwebs in her head, trying to regain her bearings.

He had back-handed her, and then kicked her in the stomach as she lay, stunned.

She worked at her jaw and pushed back her now undone hair with one hand, looking back at the man standing above her.

"How. Dare. You!" He shouted thunderously. Sango crawled away to curl up against the wall, the agony spreading in the middle of her body hindering her movements.

" You! Filthy animal!" She wrapped her arms around her legs, hunching over to make herself as small as possible, knowing that there would be hell to pay.

"Rikuto!" The daimyo shouted as he ran into the room, alerted by the servants of the commotion heard from the room where his son was having tea with his future wife.

Sango looked up at the older man as he approached his son, inspecting his injury. He turned to her, a thunderous expression on his face.

.

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"We're nearly there. I can smell smoke." Inu Yasha called back to the group as he marched forward. Miroku turned to look back at Sango, who brought up the rear of the group. They had not talked since the incident atop of Kilala, but he had noticed the slayer becoming increasingly tense as they made their way towards the daimyo's castle. He did not understand why. There was much it seemed he didn't understand, as of lately.

Kagome gasped and stopped in the middle of the road. Everyone halted their movements and converged towards the miko, concern written all over their faces.

"Kagome?" Shippou asked, tugging on her shirt gently. The girl from the future blinked and looked down at the fox demon in her arms.

"I'm fine, Shippou." She reassured the young demon, stroking his hair. She looked at the other members of the group, who stared back inquiringly.

"I can feel a shikon shard." The miko said lowly. Inu Yasha hissed in a breath sharply, eyes glittering with determination. It had been some time now since they had run into a shard. The thought of going after the shard even at the expense of their current quest warred inside of his mind. A shard was an opportunity to take, but he knew that doing so could mean that more people would die from the horrible disease they were investigating.

"Where?" Inu Yasha looked around slowly, trying to sense what the young miko was feeling. Should the shard be on their way, they might be able to get a hold of it without getting too off tracks.

"Towards the daimyo's castle." The brown-eyed girl breathed out, letting Shippou down on the ground to take her bow off of her shoulder. Inu Yasha took a look around the group, trying to decipher the thoughts of his companions. Kagome sighed.

"We'll see what happens when we get closer, Inu Yasha. The shards and the demon causing this plague could be related." Inu Yasha's ears flickered back at Kagome's untold admonition. He feh-ed softly, looking to the side. He felt a pang at the thought that Kagome might believe him so cold hearted as to put aside the plague, and everyone it touched, for a shard. There had been a time when he thought that, in order to survive, he could only care about himself. It seemed that people betrayed you and the only way to protect yourself was to trust no one, and look out for number one. Yet, he had learned to trust again because of Kagome, and of the rest of his friends. He would try to get the shard, there was no doubt about that, but only in the measure that he thought it wouldn't slow them down too much. He snapped himself out of his thoughts. He was being a fucking wimp.

"Let's go." The group followed the hanyou as he went off, nearly running in his haste to get to the daimyo and/or the shard. Faint cries reached his ears, making them twitch. He pinpointed the noise as coming from the direction of the daimyo's castle.

Suddenly, Inu Yasha took out his sword, transforming the frail looking katana into a heavy and sharp scimitar. Without saying a word, he started running, ignoring the questioning cries of his companions behind him. They immediately started running after him, readying their own weapons. Sango controlled her breathing as she ran, trying to keep the hanyou in sight. Quickly though, the red of his haori disappeared as he outran all of them.

"Kilala!" Sango cried out. The cat demon transformed mid-leap, becoming a giant sabre-toothed feline, now floating next to its mistress as she ran. The demon slayer grabbed a hold of Kilala's fur and hoisted herself on her back, leaning forward to stabilise herself as she loosened the strap of her bone boomerang with her free hand.

Kilala flew between the trees, tracing the smell of the half-demon until they burst out behind him, who stood motionless. Kilala veered sharply to avoid hitting the red-clad man, soaring in the sky and making a loop to land close by.

"Inu Yasha! What's..." Sango trailed off, looking into the distance.

The palace was under attack, dozens and dozens of people converging restlessly towards the soldiers. The armed men screamed battle cries and cut down the invaders with spears or swords. Many of these invaders had arrows sticking out of them, but even wounded, they moved forwards with a single-minded determination.

What struck both the slayer and hanyou, however, was that all of these people were covered with black pustules, oozing blood and yellow pus, and carried no weapon. They were half naked and dirty. They moved slowly and painfully, as if their bodies were stiff. The wind carried the sound of their tortured moans and groans as they shuffled forwards.

"They smell like death..." Inu Yasha muttered. Sango's brows furrowed as she saw some soldiers be overpowered by a few of the sick. Before she could even lean forward and throw her boomerang, they were torn apart, their screams of terror and pain ringing out sharply in the battle field. The mahogany-eyed girl gasped in disbelief. Such strength was unheard of for any human, no matter the circumstances.

"What is going on?" Kagome cried out as she skidded to a stop next to them, bending over to put her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Miroku halted behind the miko, panting from exertion. He took in the scene with silent horror.

"We're not sure...but, those people..." Sango exhaled. Another soldier cried out as one of the sick fell on him. His comrades moved back, widening the distance between the sick and themselves. One of the soldiers seemingly gathered his courage and ran forwards to grasp the shoulders of the still screaming man, pulling him away from the quivering grasp of the sick man on the ground. The diseased man grasped the leg of the soldier and pulled, making the soldier cry out in pain as his knee was dislocated. Another soldier ran forward and hacked off the arm of the sick with one swipe of his katana, allowing for the hurt soldier to be pulled to safety.

Inu Yasha moved forward decisively, readying his sword for an attack.

"Inu Yasha!" Kagome cried out, reaching out to pull on the hanyou's arm. "Don't kill them! These are people!" She shook his sleeve, looking at him pleadingly. The half-demon scoffed, gesturing wildly to a few of the sick now limping towards them, having finally noticed the newcomers.

"They're dead, Kagome! They smell like death! Look at them!" She turned to face the people shambling towards them. Blood and pus ran down their skin in rivers. As a woman moved closer, Kagome noticed a flash of white amongst the blood and pustules.

Teeth.

There was a hole in the skin, letting her teeth show.

The miko shook her head, gasping in a breath. Horror and confusion shone on her face.

"No!"

She zeroed in on another sick person, now a man, who came from the side, and saw that instead of eyes he had black empty holes. She gagged, fisting Inu Yasha's haori in her efforts not to bend over and throw up. Her mind went blank, unable to understand what she saw.

How?

Sango breathed out sharply from between gritted teeth, tearing her gaze away from the dazed miko. Such a grisly sight made a part of her recoil too. She had never seen such a thing, in all of her years of demon hunting. Though, her training non-withstanding, humans could not conceive that the dead could rise again, their bodies empty of a soul, yet still animated by some unholy power. She allowed herself a shudder of revulsion. Then, resolute, she prompted Kilala to move closer to the hanyou, who was now looking worriedly at the young miko next to him.

"Inu Yasha! Do you think you could hit them all in one swipe of your sword at this range?" The hanyou took a quick look and nodded back to the slayer, putting a steadying hand on Kagome's back as she swayed.

"Kagome, Miroku, stay here. I'll go tell the soldiers to fall back. As soon as we're far enough, finish them!" She ground out. Sango dug her heels lightly into Kilala's sides, leaning forward to increase their speed.

"Pull back!" She screamed as she flew down and in front of the first row of soldiers. She smashed at the hands that tried to grab at her and at Kilala with her boomerang. Arms and hands were rendered useless, the bones broken beyond repair, but the small mob still pressed against her and the cat demon. Some of the sick got a hold of her suit and started pulling at her and at Hiraikotsu, trying to get them to the ground to overpower them. The strength they displayed nearly dislocated her shoulder. She was saved by the number of the sick attacking her, which hindered their ability to get a good grip on her, pilling up on each other as they were.

She let go of Kilala's fur, tightening her legs around the cat demon's flanks to anchor herself, and pulled out a dagger from her boot. She slashed at the hands holding her, cutting tendons and skin.

"Fall back!" She screamed once more to the bewildered soldiers, who seemed unsure of whether to continue to attack or not.

"We're here to help! Fall back for our attack." They all scrambled backward as they saw a flash of light making its way towards them. Kilala turned sharply to avoid the blast. Sango leaned to the side and grabbed a young man who hadn't been listening or hadn't cared to do as she said. She fell off of Kilala and rolled them away just as the flash of lights blurred by.

A loud noise made her ears ring and light shone from behind her lids as she clung to the man underneath her, protecting him with her body. She prayed that Inu Yasha's aim had been as good as she credited him for as she felt the heat of his attack warm her leather until it felt like it was melting on her skin. She ground her teeth, waiting.

The noise and overpowering lights died down.

The slayer raised her head and looked around. All she could see was devastation, a deep groove in the earth where the sick had been. There were barely any traces of them. Only a few body parts littered the ground from those who had been on the edges of the blast.

Sango stood up painfully, biting back a groan at the soreness of her body. She reached a hand out to the soldier on the ground distractedly, looking for her companions. She felt the man take a hold of her hand and stand up.

"Sango!" Kagome slammed into her in her haste to hug the slayer. Sango covered her wince at the impact, hugging the worried girl back. Her shoulder throbbed painfully from the sick pulling on her arm, and her skin felt reddened and dried from Inu Yasha's attack.

"Are you okay?" Kagome breathed out, checking her friend for wounds. Sango nodded, smiling through her pain.

The soldiers broke out suddenly into calls and cheers as they picked themselves up slowly from the ground, noticing the utter defeat of their enemies. Some came closer to crowd around the group, curious about their sudden allies. Others stayed away, eyeing distrustfully the white-haired man or frowning at Kagome's choice of clothing. The hanyou's glower stopped the few soldiers giving lecherous looks and muttering unsavoury comments about the girl from the future from coming closer. Kagome was obvious to them, as she often was.

"You!" A man shouted, coming closer. His clothing and the demeanour of the other soldiers as he moved closer denoted his rank. They all pulled back, leaving a wide circle around Sango and her companions. The pompous man looked each member of the group over, assessing them slowly. Inu Yasha stepped forwards.

"We're here to see the daimyo." The man looked at them in disbelief, surprise and contempt evident in his expression.

"The daimio is unavailable. Nevertheless, I have some questions for you. Come with me." Inu Yasha glared at the man as he turned around and walked away, fully expecting them to follow. The cold disdain he showed them had him clenching his fists, ready to show the pompous ass where to shove his attitude. A soft hand on his arm got his attention. Kagome shook her head, giving him an understanding look. He scoffed and followed.

Sango bit her lip as she watched the members of the group move forward.

"Hum, I think I'll stay here. Help to dress up the soldiers' wounds." She called out. Kagome gave her a concerned look over her shoulder as the door closed behind them, leaving the slayer behind.

**End chapter**

And the plot thickens! I hope you guys enjoyed this new chapter. If you did, review! If you didn't, review too! Any criticism is welcome, and I'm always looking to improve.

Big thanks to **Otaku-Sig** and **Death101- Fox Version** for your continuous support! Also, thanks to **BlueWolfAngel2** for the review.


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha. Also, while I have used the name of a real feudal era family for historical purposes, everything I write related to them is pure fiction.

Warning: This chapter will depict children and teen drinking (12 to 15 years old). It should be noted though that I do not condone underage drinking.

**Chapter 8**

Sango looked around uncomfortably as the young men surrounding her celebrated. A few clasped her shoulder in greetings as they moved by her. She smiled slightly, trying to appear cheerful, albeit too uncomfortable to really feel good in this situation. A small cup of sake filled to the rim sat on the table in front of her.

A young soldier picked up his cup and raised it towards her eagerly. The slayer winced internally, but raised her cup nonetheless in return, and tipped its content back into her mouth. She swallowed the liquid quickly, putting her cup back on the table and hoping that the young men she had fought for would stop trying to ply her with celebratory drinks.

This was her fifth cup so far, and on an empty stomach. Already she could feel her legs becoming heavier and limper, and knew that more sake would only lead to feelings of light-headedness. Then, the room would start spinning and she would feel confused, but giddy. She had been drunk on two occasions in her life. Both times she had consumed vast amount of sake with her fellow slayers, young men like these, but more experienced, and more jaded.

.

.

.

_4 years and 10 months ago_

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" Sango gulped down the rest of the sake bottle and slammed it down on the table. The boys around her clapped and hooted as she smiled at them drunkenly.

The liquid didn't burn, not anymore, not like the first time, when she had chocked and coughed. Now it only tasted like warm water. How many had she had? The room swam as she looked around even as she sat still.

The fellow slayers she sat with clapped her on the back and cheered as another recent graduate gulped down a warm sake bottle. Shirou, one of the few boys she had graduated with, had smuggled the sake from a shipment of food the village had received as payment for the slaying of a demon. She didn't want to think of how he had done the smuggling, or of what would happen if they got caught. In the end though, they had wanted to celebrate. They felt like grown ups now, like they were at the top of the world.

They had had their first hunt.

Sango giggled and leaned back on her hands, crossing her legs at the ankles. The move made the room spin, prompting her to giggle once more. The young girl let her head fall back, and as she stared at the ceiling of the hut they were hiding in, took a deep breath.

The scent of victory hung thick in the air.

They had made it.

From a dozen senior apprentices, only the six of them had been deemed ready to join the slayers as their equal. They were all between twelve and fifteen years old, and now accepted as adults.

Slayers were not tested at a particular age, but according to their prowess and skills. Each apprentice graduated to a higher level of training with each skill he proved to have mastered. Only when his master deemed him worthy, and once he had reached the level of senior apprentice, was one allowed to compete to become a full fledge slayer. There were no quotas. There had been years where all apprentices had been rejected, and others where most of them had been accepted. Standards were high, hard to attain. This was their trade, their craft. They were masters of their art. Mediocrity was frowned upon, and lack of efforts punished severely.

Barely older than twelve and now a slayer. Sango sighed, a smile playing at her lips. She hid a wince as the move pulled at a cut on her cheekbone. The newly made slayer rolled her head until she pressed her chin to her right shoulder and looked at the boy sitting there. Akio gave her a cheerful but gentle smile, raising his cup to her before taking a sip. She smiled wider in return, a blush staining her cheeks as she preened under the unspoken praise.

Naoki, another young slayer sitting to her left, nodded to her before taking a sip of his own sake. He was a few years older than her, skilled, but without the taste for hunting, more of a tactician than a slayer. She smiled back widely to the quiet boy, nodding back in recognition of his achievements.

Sighing, she looked at the young demon slayers surrounding her, basking in the first stirrings of worth she had felt in a long time. She felt proud, sitting with these young men, knowing that she honoured Midoriko's memory and her father with her skills. She felt proud to count herself among those who had succeeded, even more so when most of them were a few years older than her, and had been training long before she did. She had bonded with these young men, had fought and bled with them. They were, on some level, kin.

The dark-haired girl took a look at the three boys facing her. Kenta, the one directly across from her, ignored her smile, giving her a look of contempt instead. She flinched, drawing the attention of Naoki.

"Is there a problem, Kenta?" The young man said quietly, cocking his head. Sango bit her lower lip, appreciating Naoki looking out for her. The older boy had readily supported her as she started her training, contrary to Kenta.

"She doesn't belong here. She's the reason Ryuu failed and we all know it." Kenta muttered lowly. Everyone quieted at the harshly spoken words and turned their gaze to the sneering slayer. He regarded them levelly as he sipped from his sake cup. His posture showed that he felt at ease voicing his thoughts, not feeling threatened in the slightest by his audience. Sango flinched, but tried to straighten her posture rapidly even as she swayed as the room started spinning.

The green-eyed man sitting next to her threw her a worried look before turning back to Kenta. He snorted, leaning an elbow on his bent knee, and gestured lightly towards the bigger boy, challenging his stare head on.

"We both know that ain't true, Kenta. Ryuu failed because he didn't really want to become a slayer. He never did." The other slayer cocked his head, smirking. Sango looked away as Kenta turned his smirk towards her. She had been on the receiving end of that smirk many times in the past, and it had never been a sign of good things for her. He had smirked as she picked up her mysteriously damaged weapons, as she couldn't find her pouches, as she tripped for no apparent reasons, and as she found embarrassing tears in her training uniform.

"I'm not the only one who thinks she doesn't belong here, A-Ki-O." Kenta called out, knocking back another cup of sake. Akio gritted his teeth and threw a look at the men flanking Kenta. Shirou and Yuuto avoided his probing gaze. Sango clasped her hands in her lap.

She understood them, understood that Shirou and Yuuto would not dare contradict him. Kenta was the strongest and most ruthless of their whole group. He had graduated among the top apprentices of their cohort, and had dominated most of their companions through all the tests. Even as she had suspected he was the one behind all the bad luck she had encountered through her training, she had never spoken up, choosing to avoid troubles with her teammates, but also knowing very well that if she complained to her father, she would never gain their respect.

Slayers didn't live long if they didn't have other slayers to watch their back.

"And I think you're pissed she bested you today, Ken-Ta." Akio called out, smiling back serenely. He knocked his shoulder against hers teasingly, jarring her more than usual because of her inebriated state. She nearly fell over but he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side gently.

Even as the room swam before her eyes, she saw Kenta's face turn red and the muscles in his jaw and neck starting to bulge as he became increasingly angry.

"That little bitch didn't best me at all. The only reason she's here is because her daddy is our leader. They should have let her get what she deserved... " He grunted, narrowing his gaze menacingly. Sango jumped as Akio slammed his cup on the table and rose to his feet quickly.

"How about we go have a little talk, you and I?" The green-eyed boy pulled a short dagger from his belt, the threat very clear.

Sango gasped. This was getting out of control. Akio was one of the few who had supported her through her training, and even had helped her with some aspects she had been less comfortable with. She appreciated his protectiveness.

And yet...

She reached out and gripped his ankle, trying to attract his attention. The fourteen year old boy looked down at her curiously, brows furrowed. She returned his look pleadingly, shaking her head and hoping he would understand her request. The young girl saw his eyes darken with anger, and flinched. She immediately let go of his ankle and watched morosely as he stalked away. She felt bad for hurting his feelings, but also knew that, should he stand up for her every time Kenta picked on her, she would be perceived as weak by the others.

It wasn't the first time Kenta had overtly come after her. He had liked making snide comments to humiliate her in front of others. Akio had often answered with even snarkier comments, which had made Kenta angrier, and in return, had made his revenge on her that much worse. She had kept quiet about it, hoping that once she proved herself a worthy slayer, he would cease. Yet it seemed that it wasn't enough.

She now knew that the issue the short-haired slayer had with her ran deeper than mere contempt of her abilities.

Sango turned her look to Kenta, who laughed as he watched Akio leave. He paused in his laughter to make the sound of a whip cracking, gesturing at the same time with his free hand. Sango breathed deeply, knowing that, after what she was about to do, she would have to watch her back, because Kenta left no affront unpaid for.

"He's not the one who tapped in a fight with a little girl, Kenta." She said quietly. At once, the room went quiet.

They had fought, her and him, as part of their tests. In a hand to hand combat such as that one, victory was given when an opponent was knocked out, or when he tapped lightly on a person's body or on the floor, indicating he wished to give up because he was passing out or in too much pain to continue. Kenta's fighting was characterised by brute force meant to stun and knock down others, whereas she was more of a quick and nimble fighter, relying on wit and explosive movements to confound and subdue her opponent. Even though he had landed some good hits, as evidenced by the cut on her cheekbone, she had gotten him in a triangle choke, her legs wrapped around his neck and one arm, cutting off the flow of blood to his brain until he had had no choice but to tap in order to free himself.

"I'm not the one who bled, little coral. That's what he used to call you, right? Little Coral?" Sango recoiled at the mock-tenderly spoken words.

Kenta slowly lumbered to his feet, towering above her from across the room and drawing her attention away from her musings. A sense of déjà vu hit her hard, making her gasp in a breath. She stood up and backed away from him unconsciously.

_The man's face contorted in an ugly frown as he stood up slowly, fixing a glare on his niece._

Kenta smiled, taking a step forward.

The young female fought the urge to flinch, and reminded herself that she was a slayer now, and that the monster was just in her head.

_Little coral..._

"That's enough, Kenta!" Naoki grounded out quietly, standing up next to Sango in support. She blinked dazedly.

_Hush, little coral..._

"You are overstepping your bounds." Naoki made a small move with his chin, indicating to Sango to leave as she had wanted to. The fight went out of her body with a big whoosh. Dazedly, she ambled out of the hut, knowing that she wouldn't win this battle, not today.

_Little coral..._

"Sango?" The mahogany-eyed girl swirled around, bringing her arm up to hit her opponent with the side of her hand. The boy before her blocked the strike easily with his forearm, having expected such a reaction. Sango gasped as she realised who she had attacked.

"Akio!" She gasped, immediately feeling ashamed. She looked at the ground, hugging her arms around her body tightly.

_Animal! She's an animal!_

Her eyes prickled with the onset of tears.

"I am..." She began, the words of apology ready to fall lifelessly from her lips.

"Mah, forget it!" He cut her off. She looked up at the older boy in surprise. Akio gave her a crooked smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side gently. The young slayer stiffened, her heart hammering in her chest at the contact. Part of her brain told her he was her friend, someone she could count on, but panic made her muscles tighten. She dug her fingernails into her outer thighs, fighting to stay still under the innocent touch.

"Akio?" She breathed out, uncertain and scared. His smile dimmed slightly and he let his arm fall off of her shoulders.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home..." Sango nodded dumbly, stealing looks at the boy walking next to her.

_Akio._

.

.

.

Sango barely glanced at her newly refilled cup, and against her better judgement, knocked it back quickly.

Akio.

She hadn't thought about him in a while.

The seventeen year old grimaced, feeling more miserable than five minutes ago.

Another loss.

A palm slammed down on her shoulder hard enough to jar her, thus bringing her out of her glum thoughts.

"It's her, it's Sango. She pulled me out of the way of the attack..." The young man smiled at her eagerly, before turning back to a woman of similar age, who hovered agitedly behind him. The young woman clutched the soldier's hand tightly, looking around worriedly.

Sango blinked and shook her head. She pulled her lips up in what she hoped seemed like a sincere smile. The young maid looked at her and bowed quickly. The dark-haired slayer frowned with curiosity as she noticed the disgruntled look on the maid's face.

"I must go back, Arata-love. Chiyo will be displeased if she finds I am not at work." The maid said worriedly, already tugging her hand free of her lover's.

"Chou..." The soldier trailed off as he watched his girlfriend scurry away. He turned back to Sango for a second, giving her an apologetic smile, and wandered off in search of a drink. The slayer watched him go with curiosity, wondering about the strange interaction that she had just witnessed. Something about the maid nagged at her mind, making her feel as if she were forgetting something.

A soldier approached her with a few friends, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Taijiya-sama! Tell us about one of your exterminations..." The man said eagerly. He was also a young soldier, fresh-faced, barely old enough to be at the service of the daimio.

Sango sighed.

It was no wonder they had done so poorly in their fight with those, well, zombies for lack of a better word. It seemed that a lot of the daimio's soldiers were off fighting battles, leaving younger recruits to deal with guarding the castle. Of course, the occurrence of an all out attack against the daimio's castle was very unlikely. It was strategically built and located, rendering any attempt at an attack or even a siege rather costly. The invading soldiers would be particularly vulnerable to attacks, having no way to cover their approach. Of course, when the enemy didn't care about arrows or blades or fire, the rules of the game changed.

And thus, here they were, inexperienced young men eager to hear war stories, not yet understanding the cost of battles.

"Well..." She began hesitantly. The trio sat down quickly, leaning forward to better hear her talk. She searched through her mind for the less gruesome exterminations she had taken part of.

"There was this demon once, who seduced the leader of a village. Of course, things didn't go according to the plan when villagers realized the demon wasn't a she, but a he. So, we were called because they taught the leader was being controlled..."

Half an hour and five stories later, the trio had doubled in size as other soldiers joined in. The attention made her distinctly uncomfortable, but she still tried to find good stories to talk about, all the while wishing that Inu Yasha and the others would hurry so they could rescue her.

"Ha-hummmm." A man cleared his throat, towering behind the young men forming a half circle around her. The slayer looked up at the pompous man who had greeted them outside. He regarded her with displeasure, and sniffed lightly at her with disdain.

"Your presence is requested. Leave your weapons." The mahogany-eyed girl stood up quickly, feeling relieved at the thought of leaving the group of men behind, but also suddenly fearful of where she was to be taken.

"Hum, excuse me, sir..." The man threw her a look of contempt tinted with thinly veiled malevolence. Sango recoiled, unsure of the reason for his sudden overt hate towards her.

"Quiet, girl." Sango closed her mouth, teeth clicking with the force of the move. The action was performed unconsciously, past manners ingrained in such a setting indicating that she respect her superior's wishes. The slayer looked around as they walked, her heart quickening as they made their way deeper into the castle, and closer to rooms where nobility and the daimio himself would be staying.

The man opened a door and impatiently gestured for her to go through. Sango stopped in her tracks, keeping her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her.

"Hello, Sango." The taijiya looked up sharply and flinched as she came face to face with the daimio himself, who sat on a platform, looking down at his unwilling guest.

"I am glad you were able to join us." The words were spoken lowly and tonelessly, no hint of emotion shinning through. The clank of porcelain hitting a table brought her attention to the figure sitting left of the daimio. A young man sat with a pale, delicate, and also quite young girl. The girl flinched, but straightened quickly as the man next to her shot her a quick look of reprisal.

The slayer gulped in a breath, feeling the walls of the room closing on her. Her hand twitched, itching for a blade, her senses screaming that she faced danger, but all of her weapons had been left behind.

_Not all..._

She quieted quickly the voice whispering in her mind. Attack the daimio? One did not live to tell the tale. She took a longer look at the man sitting next to the daimio, and met rage filled eyes. The young woman flinched and felt her knees weaken.

"I would say that it is truly her, Father." The man spoke flatly. Her ears started ringing and her breath coming out in ragged puffs.

"Rikuto..." She breathed out. The young woman flinched as she realised her mistake and found herself on her knees before having time to mutter any other word. The guard who had hit the back of her legs stepped back to his previous position. She fell forwards on her hands quickly and bowed until her forehead touched the ground.

"My lord..." She whispered as she shook.

_I will have you executed for this! Animal!_

"I thought you had had her executed, Father!" The younger man spit out. Sango flinched as she heard the harshly spoken words. She ground her nails into the ground, fighting to stay still.

"Rikuto..." The daimio sighed, running a hand down his face. "You know my reasons for allowing her to live..." Sango gulped in a breath, her ears ringing louder as fear ate at her consciousness.

"Regardless, she was never to set foot on our domain!" The younger man grounded out, standing up in a flurry of robes. He clenched his fists at his sides, shaking with anger as he stared down at her. The daimio shook his head sadly.

"I fear my son is right, Sango. For now, you will be incarcerated..." She did not resist as she was pulled up and along by the guards. The young slayer walked silently, staring at the ground and trying to ignore the curious gaze of onlookers.

The daimio had been lenient, years ago, in letting her live. There had been restrictions, ones that had chained her, but also ones that had given her more freedom than most women of her village could have dreamed of.

She had known the rules, and had broken one.

There had been no choice though. The people, the villagers, had needed their help.

She flinched as the door of her cell shut close behind her.

.

.

.

_7 years and 7 months ago _

"She dishonoured us Sakura!" The harsh whisper woke Sango up. She scrubbed at her eyes, feeling confused.

"Husband, please! Calm down!" The young girl sat up, huddling in her blankets.

"She stabbed him! I have no idea what came over her, but she attacked him. She rejected him and humiliated him." Sango flinched at the harsh whisper.

"Please…" Her mother pleaded softly.

"NO! She dishonoured us. The Takeda family are not pleased with those events. She was already well in the progress of being groomed to be the heir's wife. Such an attack on the heir will not be left unpunished. They have been lenient in not killing her, understand that, Sakura!"

A gasp.

The young girl clutched her blankets tighter around herself, curling in a ball on her sleeping mat.

"No… no…" The tears she could hear in her mother's voice made her burrow her face against her knees. What had she done to her family?

"Yes. She attacked the son of an important player in the raging war. She could have done much damage. Now that she is back, they are asking for a punishment." The words were spoken hoarsely, underlined with pain and remorse.

"Please, husband…" The soft voice of her mother intoned.

"There is no other way. We have to extract their punishment, and hope this will placate them."

A sigh of desolation.

"No other family will want her now, and word will spread like a nest of Saimyōshō through the region. This will impact on the whole village. The Takeda won't take well to such a rejection, and they have much power and influence. This could very well impact on all of us..."

"We cannot…"

"She will be lashed first. In exchange for her life, she is to be imprisoned here. She will not marry. Never. Our son will continue our line. She will remain in this village forever." The young girl bit her lower lip, pressing her forehead tighter against her knees. Tears escaped her closed lids.

A gasp.

"But!"

"No. It is the only way. The Takeda's price otherwise may be too great to pay, Sakura." Her father suddenly appeared resolute. Calm.

"Please husband, a caged butterfly will only wither and die!" Her mother's panicked voice rang out.

Silence

" Make her a taijya!" Her mother blurted out.

"Sakura, the village…It is dishonourable for a woman to use a katana."

A furious whisper.

"Have you forgotten Midoriko's legacy, Daisuke! She who sacrificed her soul to trap the demon! She whose heart became the Shikon no Tama! Sango is strong! Midoriko's strength flows in her!"

"She will not be accepted easily, Sakura. This might cost her her life."

"Then she will die free, fighting like Midoriko!"

Sango bit back a sob.

End chapter.

Alright people! This one took a while; my muse took a very long walk. I really struggled with this one, but hopefully it was still enjoyable.

Big thanks to **BlueWolfAngel2**, **kaerfemina**, **Death101-Fox Version** and **Otaku-SIG** for your reviews!


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 9**

_7 years and 7 months ago_

Sango lay on her stomach, gazing numbly at the wall of the hut. The old woman sitting next to her hummed soothingly. At the first contact of the salve on her skin, the girl whimpered.

No other sound escaped her throat.

It was too sore from her screams as she was flogged.

"You were lucky, little one..." The child blinked, curling her hand weakly next to her cheek until her thumb barely brushed the warm tears streaming down her cheeks. The old healer brushed her fingertips along another set of lacerations, making spikes of pain run through her body.

"They mostly did not try to brand you." The old woman took a second to brush Sango's now shortened hair tenderly. She sighed, looking at the mess they had made of the young girl. Her back had finally stopped bleeding, but the girl's mind seemed still overcome with the trauma of what she just gone trough.

The healer shook her head with disgust and pity.

The men the daimio had sent to witness and carry out the punishment had been out for blood. Of course, it had made sense that he would want his own men taking care of such matter, for fear that one of their own would stay their hand. Yet, the brutality with which they had carried out the act had been unneeded.

They had shorn her long hair with quick hacks of their blade, under the pretence that her locks were getting in the way. Before anyone had been able to protest, the long strands had fallen to the ground. They had delighted in tearing her clothing off of her upper body, until the village leader, the girl's father, had stepped in, ensuring that her chest stay covered, and only her back be bared. The first lash had been deep, making the girl cry out until saliva dripped down her chin. She had strained against her bonds and sagged as blood immediately welled up. Only the rising anger of the villagers, who had gotten agitated, hands reaching for weapons and lips whispering about revenge, had ensured the normal continuation of things.

The poor girl had been undeserving of such brutality and malevolence.

After the first dozen lashes or so, she had hung limply, nearly unconscious from the pain.

"Your mother will apply the salve for you everyday, at the very least until you are able to reach your back without opening the wounds again." The young girl didn't flinch as the healer applied another layer of salve to her back. Already she could feel the anesthetic mix taking effect, numbing her back gradually. The smell of herb confirmed the second salve had for goal to prevent infection, and speed up the healing process. Her knowledge of herbs was restricted, but she had skinned her knees enough to recognise this particular salve.

Silence.

"The orange clay pot contains the herbs that will help with the pain for now. The blue clay pot contains the healing agent. You will have to continue applying the salve even as the wounds scab over. If you do not, you will scar." The older woman wiped her hands on a rag as she spoke and set the two pots of salve next to Sango's bed. Sango continued staring at the wall. Her mind felt emptied, disconnected from her body.

"Sango, have you heard me?" She blinked and tasted salt as she licked her lips.

"Why should I care about scaring?" The healer stayed silent.

"Beauty will be useless to me..." The girl whispered hoarsely, her throat objecting strongly even to the few sentences. She heard the healer sigh and saw her feet come within her field of vision. The woman crouched in front of her.

"Then you should think about how such massive scarring will impede your movements..." The young girl did not reply, choosing to ignore the older woman. She inched one shoulder upwards and downwards slowly, letting the oba-sama know that she did not care either way.

She didn't know, nor did she understand. The healer had been granted the right to live, to love and to grow. She, Sango, had nothing left. She had dishonoured her family and her village. She was dirty, shamed and unpure. There was nothing left for her now, no possible future.

"Look at me girl!" The harshness with which the words were spoken startled Sango. Her wide eyes flew to that of the woman. The healer reached out and brushed a shortened piece of hair off of her patient's forehead, the touch as light as a whisper. The scratchy fingertips of the healer were warm against her clammy skin.

"You, in your punishment, have been given what no other woman has been granted in centuries!" Sango blinked, and swallowed thickly, confused. The woman crouching in front of her shook her head before clarifying her thoughts.

"You have been given the right to follow the teaching of the tajiya, to wield a katana and to be free from a man's govern over your body and soul!" The words were spoken softly but with forceful passion, ordering the one listening to take heed.

Sango closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks at a faster rate.

"Freedom..." She breathed out. Was it freedom to be denied a family, love and children? Was it freedom to lose your place in the order of things? She thought of the warrior leaving to protect others who were too weak to do so, thought of the recognition and relief expressed by those who sought their village and were granted help.

She could help protect the weak.

Unbidden the face of Kohaku flashed behind her eyes, wide brown eyes staring curiously at a butterfly she held in her hand.

Protect.

"I don't know if I am strong enough, Oba-sama." She admitted hushedly.

"Tch..." The healer said with a kind smile. "Are you not a descendant of Midoriko?"

.

.

.

Sango blinked, looking at the wall on the other side of her cell. For the hundredth time, it seemed, she counted the iron bars separating her from her freedom, detailing them to the best of her abilities from her prone form. Her cell door cut the room in two. On one side was a visitor area for people to come in and talk to her, with a small bench pushed against the wall. On the other side was her current "room", made with a small cot, a chamber pot and a small window allowing air to drift in. The bed was uncomfortable, and the stink enough to make one's eyes water, but such things were irrelevant in light of the current situation.

She was jailed, having broken the terms of her probation, and now faced a similar punishment, if not death. She flinched as she recalled the feeling of the whip hitting her back and then wrapping around her side, making a welt rise to the surface. The first hit had been the worst, making stars explode behind her eyes. Such pain...

She shuddered.

The sound of a commotion touched her ears, making her sit up. Through the wooden door, she heard muffled voices shouting until, suddenly, the wooden door banged on the wall and Miroku, Kagome and Inu Yasha filled in the small "visitor space" in front of her cell.

"Sango!" Kagome cried out, running towards the slayer. "We were so worried about you! Are you okay?" She gripped the bars with one hand and reached out towards her with the other. Sango sat up and made her way closer to her friend, intending to assuage her fears. A sudden ruckus stopped her in her tracks. Both women turned towards Inu Yasha at his growl. The hanyou continued bickering with the pompous man which had been their go-between with the daimio.

"I don't care what the fucking daimio said!" Inu Yasha ground out, standing nose to nose with his current opponent.

"She is a criminal and will be judged according to our laws for her crimes!" The irate man shouted back. The slayer bit her lower lip, becoming agitated. She had hoped to avoid this conversation.

Forever.

It had been naive of her to think she would escape notice by hiding among soldiers and servants, and utterly stupid of her to hope that she would not be recognized by the daimio, or by Rikuto. Inu Yasha's shouted reply startled her out of her thoughts.

"What the hell did she do?" She opened her mouth to stop the half-demon from saying anything else but he threw her a glare before she had a chance to let out a sound. The strength of his gaze drew her up short. His vehemence in defending her shocked and humbled her.

"She tried to kill the heir!" The other man shouted back, becoming red in the face. Inu Yasha snorted, crossing his arms across his chest as he gazed at the man in disbelief.

"That's bull..." He started saying.

"InuYasha!" Sango interrupted. She clenched her fists along her thighs, and caught his eyes, fighting not to flinch as she met his strong amber gaze.

"He's saying the truth." The slayer breathed out. She slumped, suddenly feeling very tired. The daimio's attendant threw her a look of contempt and victory as her friends broke out into cried questions, Inu Yasha jabbing at the man's chest with a clawed finger while Kagome gripped the bars and pleaded with her to explain. The slayer pulled a hand through her hair, messing up her ponytail. She ignored everyone and sought out the gaze of the pompous man.

"Sir, may I have a moment with my friends?" The daimio's personal servant looked at her distrustfully but left the room nonetheless, making sure to leave the door ajar in order to hear everything.

"Please, everyone..." She intoned quietly. Under their bewildered gazes, she went to sit on her lumpy bed. Inu Yasha stalked forward, intending to get the truth out of the slayer. She waited until the daimio's servant disappeared before turning to her friends and waiting patiently for them to quiet down.

"Inu Yasha..." Kagome said quietly, reaching out to tug on his haori sleeve. The half demon gritted his teeth but nodded, crossing his arms over his chest in his typical defensive pose.

"Sango?" The miko whispered, turning wide questioning eyes towards her friend. Sango took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"I had been promised to the heir." Kagome's hand tightened around Inu Yasha's haori sleeve. The dog demon took a look at her from the corner of his eyes.

"As his wife, or his concubine?" Miroku asked quietly from his place leaning against the wall, startling everyone. He had stayed quiet through most of the events, watching silently. Sango searched his eyes, trying to decipher his thoughts, yet his purple-blue orbs gave nothing away.

The slayer looked down and shrugged dejectedly. No one spoke.

"I had been training for some time, to be a proper lady I mean. I must have been... I was nine and a half. I would have been married in a few years, at the most." Kagome gasped with horror, letting go of Inu Yasha's haori sleeve to cover her mouth with her hands. She could not understand how such a thing was possible, how they could give away a nine year old to be groomed, and how they could intend to marry her at the age of twelve.

So young.

She knew of the negative effects of such things on young girls, knew that, while some parts of the world still had this practice, many, if not most countries frowned upon it for such reasons. To think that one of her friends had been destined to this fate blew her mind. Had she been abused? Had the lord taken liberties with her? How much older than her had he been? From what she had seen, the daimio's son looked to be in his mid thirties, making him about fifteen years older than her friend.

"Sango..." The miko whispered, stepping closer to the bars in order to offer comfort. The slayer smiled slightly.

"Rikuto...Takeda-sama had always been affectionate." She intoned, clasping her hands in front of her belly. The miko noticed the slayer's knuckles turning white and bit on her lower lip, pushing herself to keep silent when countless of questions went through her mind.

Sango glanced at her friend, knowing that the girl, with her different ways, would not understand, but praying that once she knew the truth she would not look upon her differently. Already she could feel the assessing looks of Miroku and Inu Yasha on her. At the very least, young Shippou had been left elsewhere, and would not hear about this. She breathed in deeply to steady her nerves, and felt her face flush with shame and guilt. Her gaze strayed to the floor.

"He was my husband to be and I...I wounded him when he reached out to me..." She finished quietly. The taijiya felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. Kagome reached between the bars, stretching her hands towards her friend's until she grasped her clenched fingers.

"Sango... you were a child. It was wrong of him..." The slayer shook her head, her eyes rising to meet her friends. She smiled slightly at the other girl, always ready to excuse others for their sins, always eager to offer forgiveness for their mistakes. Yet, Kagome could offer no forgiveness, for she didn't understand the implications of what she had done, and how it had impacted on everyone else around her.

"I dishonoured myself, my family and my village that day, Kagome." The priestess opened her mouth to protest, but Inu Yasha put his hand on her shoulder, silencing her. No matter how knowledgeable the miko was from her time in the future, there were things she couldn't understand. She had been raised differently, and couldn't see Sango's pain. He knew of dishonour and rejection, and he understood her grief. The slayer nodded to him in recognition and gathered the strength to finish. A part of her felt relieved that they knew the truth, as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, but another part took over the relief, filling it with fears.

_Your daughter... She's an animal!_

_She's a danger to others!_

She flinched, but forced herself to continue, turning a weak smile towards her friends.

"The Takeda were lenient to me though. I was punished, of course, but..." Sango stopped speaking as Miroku stalked out of the room in a swoosh of robes, not saying a word. She watched him go, stupefied and hurt. Was he so disgusted with her he could not bear to be in the same room as her? Did he hate her now or despised her for her weakness and dishonour?

_Filthy animal!_

Tears prickled at her eyes.

"Keh!" The long-haired girl turned wide eyes to the man standing next to the priestess, fighting not to blink because it would cause the tears to roll down her cheeks.

"Don't be stupid..." The hanyou said with sudden insight. He stared at her hard for a minute, eyes roving over her face, searching for something she couldn't figure out, before stomping out himself. She blinked dazedly, and felt warm tears trail down her cheeks.

"Sango..." Kagome whispered. The slayer looked at her unseeingly, shaken.

"Come here, Sango...We'll find a solution..." She said soothingly, reaching out for her friend. The older girl shuffled closer to the iron door until she moved into her embrace. Yet, comfort did not come, the cold iron bars separating her from her friend a harsh reminder of her own personal jail.

End chapter.

Hello everyone! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's shorter than usual, but my brain is ready to ooze out of my ears from finishing the correction of all the exams & papers of the class I was TA-ing. I'll try to make the next one longer.

Big thanks to my reviewers, Chibi-sango16, Otaku-Sig, BlueWolfAngel2, Death101 - Fox Version & Kaerfemina.


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Chapter 10

The slayer looked at the ceiling blindly, trying to create patterns from the cracks running through the rocks. She sighed, restless, and turned on her side, facing the wall near her small cot. The plate of mouldy food that she had been given sat untouched on the ground. Well, not completely untouched, really. A rat the size of Kilala she had been sharing her cell with had been quite happy to take the food for its own. Though, she's not sure she would have wanted to fight it over the food anyway, considering that thing's size.

Thus, she had only drunk the water, knowing from past experience – that is her previous incarceration - that it would be pure. The food though, she knew would make her sick, even if she tried to break off the green parts.

Her stomach growled hungrily.

It had been two days now since she last ate.

For now though, her survival didn't worry her too much. She knew she could go days without food, as long as she had water.

The thought that she would stay in this cell forever had crossed her mind a few times, though. She had often thought that she had been trapped by the fate her mother had chosen for her, but now realised that being trapped without any chance of a future of any sort was worse. Though, she didn't know what her punishment would be. The daimio could choose a different form of justice. She could only hope she would survive whatever he would pick.

Yet, what worried her the most was what was happening outside. It had been two days since she had last seen or heard from her friends. A few minutes after Inu Yasha had stalked out of the room, the daimio's personal servant had come back and taken Kagome away. The girl had tried to argue, citing something she called "civil rights", but the man had been unimpressed, and had informed her none too gently that as a prisoner, the slayer had NO rights. Thus, two days later, the taijiya found herself in the dark, both figuratively and literally.

Sango grimaced.

She knew she was slowing her friends down in their quest. For all she knew, they could have found the culprit by now and extracted answers, or at least learned a cure from the demon.

With all the time she had had to think, she was now quite sure this had to be the work of one or many demons. Inu Yasha had smelled the shroud of death and decay surrounding the bodies; all of these men, women and children were dead. Yet, nothing natural she had ever encountered could explain this phenomenon. However, she knew of plenty of demons which used humans as puppets. Would it be so farfetched to think they could use the dead in the same way?

What she had to figure out now was how the disease fitted into this. It seemed only the sick came back to life, and only after their skin blistered, blackened, and started falling off in chunks. Was only one species of demon doing all this, or was it two species cooperating together towards a common goal? Was the illness caused by a demonic power, a curse, a poison?

"Sango?" a soft voice whispered.

Sango jumped, surprised out of her thoughts.

She sat up quickly on her cot, turning towards her visitor. She squinted at her guest in the darkness. Kagome stood in front of her cell, clutching something to her chest. The slayer breathed out shakily, her heart leaping in joy but also worry. She pushed dirty hair out of her eyes and approached the priestess, listening carefully for the sound of any approaching soldiers.

"Kagome, you shouldn't be here..." she said in hushed tones. She knew the young priestess could be punished for this, though she didn't know to which extent. It depended on what use the daimio had for her and in which light he considered her at this point in time.

"I brought you some food," the priestess said quietly. Sango took the offered bread and cheese thankfully. She quickly started to eat, knowing that at any moment a guard could come in and take the food away from her. The taste of fresh bread and cheese nearly made her eyes roll in the back of her head. Yet, she didn't let the food distract her from the danger her friend faced.

"Wou beeb to bo," she said around a mouthful of food. Kagome looked back towards the door, biting down on her lower lip in apparent worry, and glanced back at her once more.

"We're working on getting you out of here, Sango. I promise you. We're not going to let you stay in there much longer," the priestess whispered urgently, gripping the bars tighter. Kagome's eyes roamed over her friend's form quickly, looking for any sign of abuse or illness.

"They... haven't hurt you?" Sango smiled slightly around a mouthful of food and shook her head, trying wordlessly to reassure the girl. The miko reached through the bars to grasp her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Don't worry. We've been talking to the daymio. He...he's not a bad man but, his son..." Kagome winced before wiping the expression off of her face and smiling reassuringly. Sango flinched. The girl from the future immediately noticed and squeezed her shoulder once more. She quickly sought the slayer's eyes and gazed at her determinedly, trying to convey her support.

"We're not going to abandon you." Sango swallowed with difficulty and pushed the rest of the food underneath the folds of her uniform as steps sounded closer.

A soldier pushed the door open slowly and came to stand beside the brown-haired girl hesitantly. The taijiya recognized him as one of the young men she had helped when they had been attacked by the deceased villagers. He seemed flustered as he gazed at both girls, obviously torn in his loyalties.

"Humm, Kagome-sama, I'm sorry but you cannot be here." He gave her an apologetic look, and grasped her arm gently. The young woman gave him a stubborn look in return, even as he started pulling her towards the exit.

"I promise, Sango!" The brown-haired girl twisted and turned against the soldier's hold, trying to dig her heels in the floor to stay longer. The soldier wrapped an arm around the miko's waist, pulling her towards the door more resolutely. The slayer leaned against the bars, watching her friend get pulled away from her worriedly. There had been no doubts in her mind that her friends were doing their best to help her. Even after her confession, and to her bafflement, they had expressed their support towards her; Kagome with her unwavering faith, Inu Yasha with his quiet understanding and Miroku...

She jerked upright suddenly, seizing the bars of her cell tightly.

"Kagome, has Miroku told you anything?" The long-haired girl called out urgently. The miko gave her a worried look, but was pulled away before she could answer. Sango slumped on her cot once more, her stomach churning uneasily at what the younger girl's look could mean.

.

.

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Sango woke up with a start.

She brushed her hair out of her face and sat up quickly on her cot. A muted scream echoed once more, prompting her to get up and stumble towards the small barred window of her cell. The opening was out of her reach, located about five feet above her head. Still, the window offered a slight breeze of pure air, while ensuring that no prisoner could escape.

The slayer leaned weakly against the wall, trying to listen more closely to the faint sounds coming from the outside.

She heard another scream, and the sound of bells.

Finally, battle cries resonated in the night.

She slid down the wall slowly, sitting and listening helplessly as others fought outside.

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.

.

"Kaze no Kizu!" Inu Yasha shouted, swinging Tetsuaiga in a wide arc. The attack destroyed the dozen of zombies lumbering towards him, and illuminated the night. The sudden burst of light allowed them to see the extent of their attackers, which seemed to keep on coming.

A bright blue arrow whizzed past him as the miko next to him released one of her attack, hitting one zombie in the head. He fell on the ground, decomposing quickly until only black mush was left behind. The zombies having been too close to the attack also fell, their skin shrivelling and their organs liquefying at an accelerated rate.

The hanyou's ears flickered as he heard the noise of approaching footsteps.

"Duck!" He screamed to Kagome as he turned in an arc. The young miko immediately dropped to the ground, narrowingly avoiding having her throat torn open by the shambling man behind her. Inu Yasha's blade slid through his neck neatly. The dead man quivered and fell on the ground, starting to decompose immediately. The hanyou frowned, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Kagome's purifying attacks and his Tetsugai attacks both worked the best, indicating a clear demonic influence, as if the dead walking once more wasn't a big enough clue. Furthermore, physical attacks seemed to finish their opponent off only in rare cases. In those cases, the cause of death also seemed random; they were killed by beheading, by having their body cut in half, by losing a hand, etc. It made no sense whatsoever.

"Hanyou-sama!" a young soldier cried out, garnering the half-demon's attention. A fresh line of villagers ambled towards the soldiers. They stepped back slowly, obviously alarmed but unwilling to give too much ground. Some looked at him helplessly as their arrows became embedded into the dead villagers' chests, the action ineffective at even slowing the zombies down.

The hanyou stalked forward, preparing another attack.

"Kaze no Kizu!" He shouted, making a downward slash with his sword until a bright wedge of light and demonic energy rose and sliced through the air. The soldiers moved forward with an angry cry to hack at the few zombies left on their feet as the half-demon's attack died down.

Inu Yasha turned towards Kagome, searching for her worriedly in the night. He saw her standing stock still, her bow lowered until it touched the grass. Immediately he sped towards her, too aware of the zombies approaching her at greater speed than would be expected. He grasped her just as a zombie reached for her head from behind and jumped in the air. He landed safely a few meters away, the girl safely tucked in his arms.

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, YOU IDIOT!" he screamed at her. Yet she didn't look at him, only stared over his shoulder, her lashes wet. His nose wrinkled at the smell of salt and he immediately stepped back, running an assessing look over her body.

"Are you hurt?" She ignored him, her lower lip trembling from her repressed tears.

"Kagome? Answer me dammit!" The miko finally looked at him.

"They're just children," she whispered brokenly. He looked over his shoulder at the children shuffling towards them. One was obviously a little girl, her long hair and pink kimono easily seen through the dirt and blood that covered her. The other though was of an unknown gender and made for a much more gruesome sight. Part of the skull and a good part of the face were missing, only congealed blood and parts of the brain left behind. The hanyou gritted his teeth and turned towards the miko. He tilted her chin up, catching her eyes.

"Go! Help the soldiers!" Kagome nodded, tears streaming down her face, and turned, firing an arrow to a female creeping up to an unsuspecting soldier.

She ignored the sound of Inu Yasha's attack, distracting herself by biting down on the inside of her cheeks until she tasted blood. She reached for her scabbard and came up empty just as Inu Yasha landed next to her.

"I'm out of arrows! I need more!" she said urgently. Inu Yasha cursed, raking his claws through his long hair. The screams of soldiers attracted their attention to their left. Zombies swarmed a group of young soldiers, grasping at them until they heard the sound of cracking bones and saw limbs being torn away. Blood stained the hands, faces and feet of the zombies as they feasted on the flesh they grasped.

Screams resonated to their right, and a similar gruesome sight greeted their eyes. The hanyou's gaze swung to Kagome as he heard her starting to retch. He put his hand on her back, keeping her upright by grasping the back of her shirt, and swung his sword again, launching an attack that killed the line of zombies in front of him.

The attack also allowed him to see the dozens more walking towards them slowly.

"Dammit!" he cursed. It seemed those things kept coming and coming. As if things weren't bad enough, the soldiers he fought with were nearly useless. At first, when there had been very few zombies, the men had been able to keep on top of their attackers, rushing them in number and hacking at them until they were in so many pieces they couldn't get up anymore. But now, with the number of zombies rushing them, their number was insufficient. They were the ones getting torn to pieces. Only his attacks and Kagome's worked, but they couldn't be everywhere. If things didn't get better, this would become a massacre. They needed to be able to take those zombies down in one go.

"DAMMIT!" he cursed again. The hanyou gritted his teeth and turned to look at the miko next to him. She was leaning forward, hands on her knees, taking deep shaky breathes. The white-haired man planted his sword in the ground in front of him and turned to the shaken girl. He forced her to straighten up by wrapping an arm around her waist and tilted her head up with his other hand.

"Kagome!" he snapped, shaking her gently. She seemingly snapped out of whatever horrors she kept seeing, and raised tear glazed eyes to his.

"Inu Yasha..." she breathed out, her hands reaching to clutch at the hand holding her chin up. She blinked at the white-haired man.

"Go get Miroku, I'll hold them back!" he said urgently. Her gaze sharpened, now alight as she was with new purpose. She nodded firmly and she ran towards the castle.

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.

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Sango clenched her hands into fists and hit her head gently against the rock wall as she heard pained screams ring out into the night.

"Dammit!" she gritted out, fighting back angry tears at her inability to help in the battle taking place.

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.

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The priestess pushed aside the guards in her haste to reach the doors of the daimio's room. She knocked on the door urgently, uncaring of the soldiers' protests and attempts to hold her back. One of them reached around her neck with his forearm, bringing her back against his chest. The miko flushed in anger and fear, and brought her heel down hard on the top of the guard's foot.

"Let me go!" she screamed forcefully, escaping his clutch as he fell back in surprise at her attack.

The other guard unsheathed his katana, bringing the blade to her neck. The dark-haired girl gave the guard an incredulous look.

"I need to see the daimio! It's urgent!" she breathed out, trying to move away from the sharpened weapon. The guard followed her movements and brought his blade tighter against her neck until a thin line of blood appeared on her skin. She gasped.

The doors to the daimio's room opened.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, glancing disbelievingly from his guard to Kagome, who stood as still as possible to avoid the blade digging deeper into her neck.

"Daimio-sama, please, you need to let Miroku go!" Kagome pleaded. The daimio ran his hands over his face with a sigh. He gestured to his guards tiredly to lower his weapon. The scarred soldier hesitantly sheathed his katana, obviously wary of the young woman. The daimio eyed the priestess looking at him beseechingly.

"It's not that easy, young miko," he finally said, letting his hands fall to his side. Kagome clenched her hands at her sides and tilted her chin up stubbornly.

"There is a battle out there; people are getting hurt!" The daimio hesitated. The young priestess immediately pressed on.

"Miroku can help us!" She stepped closer to the daimio, ignoring the scarred soldier as he tensed at her movement.

"He attacked the heir, Miko-san. That is a punishable offence." Kagome winced at the reminder. She had not witnessed the scene herself, but from what she had heard, Miroku had marched up to the daimio's son and punched him in the mouth quite hard, actually hard enough to knock the older man on his ass. That hadn't gone over well, although she got the feeling that Rikuto's ego had been what had been hurt the most. It would explain quite well why he had insisted Miroku be placed into a cell until they decided his punishment, insisting that the monk was a danger to his person.

Right.

"Are the lives of your soldiers worth your son getting his revenge?" As soon as the words left her mouth, the brown-eyed woman winced, knowing it could very well work against her. Yet, it was the truth, and she could only hope that the daimio would make the right choice. If he didn't, she could only start trying to plan how to break Miroku out.

The daimio tensed at her words, staring at her hard for a few seconds. Kagome held her breath. Finally, the man slumped and shook his head, looking heavenward at the tantrum he could see coming from his son. With a tired sigh, he gestured towards the guards.

"Take her to the monk's cell and free him so he may go with her." The daimio turned and closed his door firmly, muttering the whole time.

Kagome didn't lose any time, immediately starting to run towards the dungeons of the castle, the guards not far on her heels.

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Miroku pursed his lips as he thought of escape strategies, sitting cross-legged on his small bed. He wrinkled his nose as a rat ran through his room and entered his cell, looking for the food he had not dared touch. It looked practically ready to walk out of the bowl by itself.

The monk scratched his chin, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. Of course, he had landed himself in this mess. He had acted quite impulsively in punching the heir. He had been so incensed he had not even thought about his actions. He had just done so.

The purple-eyed man sighed.

When he had found out they had put Sango in jail, he had been upset but certain that it was a misunderstanding that could be easily resolved.

Not so.

He had listened quietly as she related her past, a past he had had no idea about. She had been chosen to be the lord's... The lord's what exactly? She hadn't even been able to answer his question. For all intent and purpose, the man could have had chosen her to be a concubine. He gritted his teeth. Sango deserved much better than being some concubine. She deserved to be loved and protected, not kept as a sexual asset. Not only that, but Rikuto had tried to press his intentions on her. To make matter worse, she had been a child, and when she had tried to protect herself, she had been punished. Yet she still defended the man and his family.

He clenched his jaw.

They were scum, the son for doing this, and the daimio for allowing it to happen and punishing her for protecting herself.

A part of him had felt tremendous satisfaction at the feel of his fist contacting with the lord's face. Of course, he hadn't thought about what would happen next, such as being sent to the floor by two burly guards and then escorted to a cell for "trying to kill the heir".

The holy man snorted.

If he had been trying to kill the heir, they would have never found his body. He clenched his fingers around the prayer beads wrapped around his cursed wind tunnel, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

Now that he knew everything though, he couldn't help but wonder if Sango's distant attitude was partly a result of coming to this place. She had to have known that they were going to the Takeda's and that she would be punished if caught on their land. Yet she had said nothing; she had never been one to stay behind.

He smiled slightly, letting his head fall back. His smile died as he thought of the demon slayer's reactions to him. Even before she knew they were coming to this place, she had been distant. None of his attempts to talk to her had been fructuous. What could he do, really, to make her talk to him? He did not understand her reactions, considering their past. For some reason, something had changed. He raked his hand through his hair.

"Miroku!" The monk stood up quickly to look at the woman who just barged in his cell, followed by two bulky guards. He frowned, looking at the miko worriedly. She was bent over, panting, her uniform stained with blood and grime.

"Kagome, what's wrong?" He gripped the bars tightly as a guard approached his cell, wondering what was happening. The guard unlocked the barred doors quickly and opened it, making way for Miroku to get out.

"Miroku, we need you... they're back," the miko panted. The holy man frowned, until comprehension dawned on him. He immediately started running. He heard Kagome follow suit until she caught up with him.

"Follow me! I know a shortcut!" she breathed out as she took a different turn and opened a small door. They made their way through a tight hallway with many doors. Kagome made sharp turns in a maze of similar hallways while he followed, running as fast as possible. For a few minutes, all they heard was their heartbeats and the sound of their steps on the stones as they ran. Finally, they burst outside.

Kagome screeched as she tried to stop her momentum, feet skidding in the dirt. Yet she was unable to do so and connected with a big man, who grasped her head with bloodied hands. The miko gasped in a breath as her hands ignited with blue fire, which immediately engulfed the zombie holding her. He staggered back, groaning, and fell on the ground, decomposing until only a black stain remained. She turned her gaze to the battlefield and swallowed back the bile rising in her throat, rubbing mindlessly at the congealed blood now staining her cheeks.

Warm hands pulled her back as the monk behind her checked her over for injuries. Obviously satisfied, he moved her gently towards a group of soldiers.

"Kagome! Go take care of the injured!" Miroku pushed the miko towards a cluster of injured soldiers huddling near the castle doors. The priestess in training ran towards the men, not once looking back.

Not that he could blame her.

The sight that had greeted him as they ran outside had nearly rendered him immobile. Only the fact that Kagome had literally run into a zombie had kept him moving. He spotted Inu Yasha as the half-demon let out an attack, destroying a dozen zombies in one swoop of his sword. The purple-eyed man ran over to him, dodging slippery stains on the grass and littered body parts, some, he noted with a wince, which belonged to the daimio's soldiers.

"Miroku! About time!" the hanyou snapped between pants as the monk appeared beside him.

"How many are there?" the monk asked quietly, Inu Yasha's strategy now obvious to him.

"Those fucking things keep on coming! What the hell has the daimio done to piss off those things so bad?" the hanyou grunted as he swung his sword at a zombie coming up from the side, cutting him from shoulder to hip. The holy man sighed and reached for his prayer beads.

"Inu Yasha, tell the soldiers to fall back!" The hanyou immediately started running, cutting down zombies in his path with his claws and stopping near units to warn them to move back. Miroku watched his progress but kept an eye on his surroundings, unwilling to be caught unaware by one stray diseased villager.

Diseased.

The word reverberated into his mind, making him instantly nauseous. There was no way to know that doing this wouldn't render him sick also. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. This could kill him or, Kami forbid, transform him into one of those things. A cry attracted his attention. One retreating unit fell under a wave of zombies, some of the soldiers trying to crawl away. The effort proved useless as more zombies surrounded them and started feasting on their flesh, the men still alive and crying out in fear and pain. Miroku swallowed the lump in his throat and breathed out shakily.

If he did not interfere, Kami only knew how many more would die. The monk stole himself, swallowing back his fear, the one that was ever present when he used his curse, and opened his wind tunnel.

.

.

.

"Miroku?" a voice called out distantly. Miroku turned his head to the side slowly, feeling cold, oh so cold.

"Miroku?" a cool hand touched his face, prompting him to moan and turn away.

"What's wrong with him? Is he infected..." His world faded to black.

.

.

.

Sango turned weakly on her cot at the sound of the door to her cell room opening. She didn't know how many days it had been now since her incarceration. Maybe five, or was it six? It seemed about right, since it had been about two days since the attack.

She hadn't heard from anyone since then. Who knew what had happened? She had spent the last few days worrying, wondering if someone she loved had gotten hurt. She didn't even know if the attack had been from the dead villagers or from an opposing daimio's army, although the chances of the later were very slim.

The slayer blinked in the near darkness as her visitor sat on the small bench outside of her cell. She pushed greasy bangs out of her eyes, sitting up with difficulties. Kagome's food had been a blessing but little in the grand scheme of things, and she now found herself severely weakened from not eating. Sango leaned her elbows on her knees tiredly, squinting in the darkness at the figure sitting in front of her.

"This brings back memories, does it not, Sango?" The slayer straightened quickly, her mind suddenly ablaze with alarm and questions. The man outside of her cell put his ankle over his knee and crossed his arms.

End chapter.

Ah ah yes I'm that evil! Cliff-hanger!

Sorry for the wait. I've been crazy busy, and out of the country for a conference. Buuutttt, my flight was cancelled due to the weather, so I had free time on my hands. What better way to spend it than to write a fanfiction chapter!

Big thanks to kaerfemina, chibi-sango16, Death101-Fox Version, Otaku-SIG & BlueWolfAngel2 for your reviews. It's always encouraging to know that some people are reading and enjoying!


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

Warning: This chapter contains material that may be act as a trigger (rape).

**Chapter 11**

"It has been... hummm...around seven years now?" The dark-haired girl stayed silent, trying to slow down her racing heart. She had no idea what the man wanted with her, but knew better than to enrage him further. She had learned through the time spent in this castle that while he was mostly a pleasant man, he did not tolerate what he considered "lack of respect".

"The last time I saw you, you were sitting in this cell. The exact same one, no? Crying and begging for our mercy." He sighed. Sango bit on her lower lip, knowing that he was twisting the truth. She resisted the urge to protest.

Indeed, she had cried and begged, but not for herself; she had begged for her village. She had dishonoured them and had put them in a position to be punished for her offense. She had been willing to accept her punishment if it meant her family be left alone, no matter how scared of what awaited her she was.

"I suppose I should have foreseen that you would attack me. You had always been nothing but a filthy animal..." Sango flinched, the movement pushing her back against the cold brick wall of her cell.

_Filthy animal!_

The words reverberated through her mind. She suddenly became dizzy, fear and hunger making it hard for her to concentrate. She leaned back against the wall and nearly missed the man's next words.

"But then again, you were raised as one. There was only so much our best tutors could do." The man stood up languidly, approaching the iron bars of her cell. The slayer watched him carefully from her spot, trying to gather as much information as possible concerning his mood from his nonverbal behaviour. She knew he was there, with her, in the middle of the night, for a reason. He would never lower himself to be with her, whom he considered lower than dirt, and furthermore in the dungeons, otherwise.

"Born from animals, and raised like one..." The words were spoken lowly, the heir tilting his head as he regarded her with clear disdain. The taijiya bit down hard on her lower lip until she felt the skin give and tasted iron. She tightened her fists, fighting not to answer to his taunts. She could take any insults he would direct at her. She deserved every single of them for what she had done. Her village, though, did not deserve this. This man was tarnishing their honour, their name, when they had been loyal to him and his kingdom, fighting under the daimio's orders against demons that others had deemed too dangerous to face.

"No answer? Hummmm, I suppose even animals can learn to know their place." Sango blinked, looking down at the floor, fighting tears of humiliation and anger. She knew making her feel inferior was his goal, but the words didn't sting any less.

"Though, some things never change. Always making troubles for others to fulfill your own desires..." The slayer stood up quickly to stand in front of the nobleman, gripping the bars of her cell tightly to keep her weakened body upright.

"What are you talking about?" She breathed out worriedly, quaking with the strain of not reaching out to grip the man's robes to shake the answers out of him. He slipped a hand through the bars and brushed his fingertips along her cheek, a small pitying smile on his face. She flinched imperceptibly but did not avoid the touch; what he had to say was too important.

"Oh Sango..." Suddenly his fingers dug into her cheeks as he brought her closer to the bars by her jaw. She felt the skin numbing under his touch, and took a deep breath through her nose to slow down the panic taking hold inside of her heart.

"Is that a way to address your lord?" He whispered harshly. The young woman blinked in the darkness and swallowed thickly. Even though he was playing with her, he was right; she was not treating him as she should a man of his station. She was not his promised anymore. She was nothing more than a peasant to him, one that was scum for having attacked him. He released her with a shove, and only her hold on the bars kept her from falling back.

As soon as she regained her balance, she let her head fall low, and breathed out what she knew he wished to hear.

"My apologies, Takeda-sama. Please, would you tell me more?" She felt his fingertips brush softly against her knuckles.

The slayer tightened her fingers around the bars, trying not to flinch away from the touch. Fear and confusion swirled thick inside of her. The mahogany-eyed girl risked a look at the man from underneath her lashes, trying to gauge his expression. He only smiled sadly at her, giving her another pitying look.

"I'm afraid your friends have committed various acts of treason, some that could be punished quite harshly," he whispered to her, his eyes roaming over her form. Sango swallowed thickly, a deep surge of terror making her mouth dry. She knew her little group sometimes, if not often, committed acts that broke minor laws, but couldn't imagine what they had done that would be considered treason. She couldn't fathom either how the daimio would have gotten wind of their various actions. Yet, a vague idea of what Rikuto was aiming for formed in her mind.

"This is a very sordid affair, all of this. Sadly though, the law is the law." He sighed softly, settling his hands over hers. With one last look he turned to leave. Sango watched him go, shaking with emotions. Her mind reeled as she struggled to find a way to save her friends. Each step the lord took away from her only increased her panic.

"Please, Takeda-sama, please, spare my friends!" The man stopped and turned around. Through the darkness she saw him watching her with interest. The slayer closed her eyes and swallowed, knowing that there was no choice. Letting go of the bars, she let herself slide down until her knees touched the floor. Her head bowed, heavy because of her weakened state and the weight of her decision.

"I will take any punishment you wish for them. Please, spare them." She whispered pleadingly. Sango heard his footsteps as he came closer, until his shoes appeared in her field of vision. Yet she didn't look up. She didn't dare, knowing he might feel slighted and decide to leave without taking into consideration her pleas.

The jingling of keys broke the silence, leaving the young woman confused.

"Move back." Sango complied, crouching and moving backward until she hit the back wall of her cell. She stayed low to the ground, cowering as he wished her to. She kept her gaze to the floor as she heard her cell door open and close. Yet she didn't hear the sound of the lock turning, indicating he hadn't locked the door behind himself. A small twinge of hope fluttered in her chest, but she quickly squashed it down. There was no way he was going to let her go. Furthermore, there was no way she would be able to get out even if she made a break for it. And then, with her friends in danger, she wasn't even going to think about that possibility.

The slayer glanced at Rikuto from underneath her lashes and saw him watching her, a mocking smile tilting his lips. The thought that he was toying with her created a twinge of anger and fear in her chest. . The sight made her look down once more; she couldn't afford to let him see the emotions in her eyes, should their gaze meet.

The young lord stopped in front of her and bent to touch the underneath of her chin with two fingers. Slowly, he tipped her head back. She followed his silent command, yet kept her eyes on the floor.

"I see you still remember some of your lessons." The words were spoken as if he were particularly pleased with her for her behaviour. She noticed him stepping away. He sat on her coot, looking at ease even in her small smelly cell. Sango did not dare stray from her spot.

"Very well. I think it would be possible for your friends to go unscathed." He sighed, as if the thought was particularly bothersome. Sango waited with baited breath, unwilling to move for fear that even the slightest movement would be enough to make him change his mind.

"This, though, means that someone else would need to take their place for their crimes. And then, if we add your own crimes... Do you understand, Sango?" He asked gently. The young woman shook her head even as a clear picture of what he was asking of her formed into her mind. Yet she did not dare presume of his intentions.

"You would have to stay there, and spend your life incarcerated, for both your and their crimes against us." The young woman swallowed with difficulties but nodded. The images of her village and of her brother appeared in her head and pressed against her heart, reminding her of the vengeance that she had sworn to bring to Naraku in their name.

Yet, she couldn't put this vengeance above the lives of her friends. Who knew what fate awaited them? She couldn't bear the thought of Kagome being lashed as she had been, or Inu Yasha tortured, for he would be, just by who he was, half human and half demon. Who knew what would happen to Miroku and Shippou? Her mission was important, had always been, but she knew that as she took their places, her friends would continue for her, and would destroy Naraku. Her village would not have revenge by her hand, but they still would be at peace.

"Your life will be forfeit, mine to control as I please," he whispered softly and beckoned her to come closer. With tears in her eyes, the young taijiya crawled closer to Rikuto.

Her fate was sealed.

She stopped at his feet, leaning against the side of her cot limply. Tears threatened to choke her, but she swallowed them forcefully. A heavy hand grasped her shoulder, tightening nearly to the point of pain. The slayer gritted her teeth, concentrating on the physical pain in order not to feel the emotional one.

"And it starts now," she vaguely heard him say, the words grounded out hoarsely. Sango blinked as she found herself staring at the ceiling of her cell, her head cocked at an awkward angle. She felt a heavy weight on top of her body and tensed, whipping her head up to look at what pinned her down. Rikuto lay atop of her, pressing down against her hips and torso. Panic seized at her heart and flashes of a similar event flew through her mind

"Ta-Takeda-sama..." She choked out, reaching to push at his shoulders as gently as possible while trying to dislodge him. The young lord sat up quickly and grasped both of her wrists with one hand, pushing them above her head. Sango started panting, fear gnawing at her insides as comprehension dwelt, and she struggled against his hold. Yet, nothing happened, lack of food having sapped at her strength.

_Hush, little coral..._

_You will learn to accept my affections._

"You are mine Sango," the man atop of her said harshly before reaching with one hand to undo the top buttons of her uniform, until he bared her wrapped chest to his gaze. Sango made a high keening noise in the back of her throat, trashing her hips to make the lord fall off of her, but he held onto her wrists tightly. Her mind went through all of the techniques she knew to defend herself, but too many involved the risk she would permanently hurt the young lord, thus damming herself and her friends, and most would be impossible in her weakened state.

"Ple-Please Ri-Rikuto-sama...Don't..." She whispered brokenly between pants, still arching and twisting to free herself. The young lord let out a soft moan and pushed her legs further apart to settle between them.

"No one says no to me, San-go," he gritted out. He moved against her until she started feeling the bulge of his arousal against her neither region.

Deep all encompassing panic destroyed any vestige of her training.

She started screaming and crying, twisting and turning as her assailant tugged at her chest bindings with one hand, rubbing his arousal against her core.

Sango blinked in the darkness, confused, as her ears rang. Within seconds, she recognized the familiar feeling and realized that she had been punched in the face. Her jaw and cheekbone felt numb and then started throbbing. She licked her lips, tasted blood and slowly felt herself drifting away.

Distantly she felt hands on her breasts, roughly groping, and then lower, tugging at her bindings. She heard a muffled curse as someone tugged at her uniform, trying to... to... Her brows furrowed as the feelings faded.

Her body felt light, as if she was floating, and the weight atop of her seemingly lessened. Time seemed to slow down, every second stretching into minutes.

Suddenly the very slight weight atop of her lifted off, leaving her feeling as if she would float away. She didn't move, staring at the dirty floor, her ears filled with a high keening sound that destroyed every other sound around her.

A soft hand brought her head up and she blinked, staring into purplish-blue eyes. She smiled sadly to herself, confused but comforted by what her mind had conjured. She saw the man's lips move, and made out her name being pronounced, but couldn't hear it.

Miroku, her mind supplied. The man standing over her was Miroku.

She blinked.

"Miroku?" She whispered lowly.

"Sango? Are you okay? Sango?" The man ran his hand over her face gently, checking carefully for injuries. He winced as he touched her jaw, for a reason she couldn't understand.

She blinked.

"Miroku?" She whispered again, her mind unable to understand what the man was doing here, with her.

"Sango? Are you hurt somewhere?" He asked again. The monk ran his eyes over her form even as he tried to straighten her uniform to cover her back up. She did not move.

The slayer blinked as his words registered.

"Miroku?" She looked down at herself and sat up slowly. When she noticed her state of undress, she closed her uniform over her chest as quickly as possible. She kept the leather folds together with one hand as she scooted back with the other, putting some distance between herself and the monk. He gave her a concerned, but slightly wounded look. Sango flinched, seeing the pain in his gaze, and glanced away.

She finally noticed the man sitting up groggily on the floor, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

_You are mine, Sango._

_Ple-Please Ri-Rikuto-sama...She whispered brokenly between pants, still arching and twisting to free herself._

The slayer tried to shove her body against the corner of her cot, taking short panting breathes. Flashes of trying to get away appeared into her mind, then of being punched, tasting blood.

Nothing.

She could remember nothing else. Fear exploded in her mind. How long had this been going on? What had happened? She breathed in deeply through her nose as she took notice of her uniform in a disarray, but still completely on her, the bandages on her chest feeling loose around her torso, and her breasts feeling sore, but not her neither region.

"Mi-Miroku..." She turned her gaze to the holy man. Her brows creased and she leaned forward. She had not seen it before, but as she gazed at him she saw that he looked flushed and feverish, with glassy eyes and sweat soaked bangs. Hesitantly, the shaken girl reached out to him and brushed her fingertips on his damp forehead. A soft breath escaped between her parted lips.

"Miroku? You're burning with fever," she said hoarsely. The monk gave her a crooked smile.

"I'm happy that you worry about me, Sango." He said gently, reaching up to clasp her fingers with his. She felt her heart skip a beat with fear at the sudden touch, but the feeling was quickly put aside as she lunged to catch the purple-eyed man as he slumped, semi-conscious.

"You're okay, Sango?" She smiled back shakily, nodding. The slayer tightened her arms around the sick man, muscles screaming in protest, and moved his body to lean against hers. Finally, she was able to cradle him until he slumped against her side, head pillowed against her shoulder. She felt his body go lax until all of his weight pressed against her. So close now she felt how high his fever was, and noticed the gray tinge of his skin. The young woman fumbled and felt for a pulse, and was relieved to find one, erratic and inconsistent as it was.

A looming presence above her made her look up. She met fury-filled eyes and twisted her body to protect her friend, hunching over his prone form. The taijiya tensed, awaiting a blow, knowing there would be hell to pay for this. A part of her couldn't help but be thankful for the intervention, but she also knew that whatever the lord wanted to do to her, it would be ten times worse now.

Revenge.

Revenge motivated each of the man's action.

"You'll both die for this, Sango." Rikuto leaned over, putting one palm on the wall above her head to steady himself as he rubbed at his jaw.

"But not before I fuck you raw while he watches." He said darkly, stark rage contorting his features. The slayer let out a shuddering breath and clutched the monks' robes tighter.

"Rikuto-sama?" A small insecure voice rang out in the darkness. The long-haired girl blinked and looked over her shoulder. For a moment, she felt relieved for the distraction, knowing it had stopped the young lord in his tracks, but sudden fear seized her heart as she made out the slight form of Rikuto's fiancé in the darkness.

"Rikuto-sama? Are you there?" The slip of a girl approached the cell, looking on worriedly. She searched her fiancé's face before her gaze strayed to Sango hunched over the form of Miroku. Her gaze flew back to that of Rikuto's, who gave her a thunderous look.

"Are... are you okay, Rikuto-sama?" She whispered, obviously shaken.

"What are you doing here?" He gritted out, stalking towards her. She let her head fall forward until her hair formed a curtain around her face, looking for all intent and purpose like a chastised child. A guard shuffled outside of the door, and the noise seemingly stopped the young lord in his tracks. Sango saw him clench his fists at his sides. Her heart went into her throat. Could he hurt that child? Would he strike her? She tensed, letting Miroku slide down to lie on her cot, and stood up as quietly as possible. Sudden light-headedness forced her to lean against the wall. She took deep breaths, trying to clear the cobwebs in her head. How could she defend this girl when she could barely defend herself, or stand up on her own two feet?

"I...I'm... sorry, Rikuto-sama. I... I ..." The girl sniffled. Sango looked on confusedly as the young lord let out a long suffering sigh.

He turned to her cell, locked the door and stalked out of the room.

"Come!" He barked out. The girl turned and followed obediently. As she walked, she turned to look at Sango over her shoulder, dry-eyed. Emotions darkened her eyes, but Sango couldn't decipher them. She knew though that there was more to this girl than it seemed; there had been shrewdness in her gaze.

She vaguely heard the young lord screaming at the guard as the trio walked away, until all fell silent.

Sango let herself slide down the wall until she sat on the floor, and turned her gaze to the man unconscious on her cot.

The worst was yet to come.

The slayer let her head fall to her knees, hugging her legs to her chest.

End of chapter.

Alright everyone! Sorry for the wait. I know this one took a long time coming out.

I had a lot on my plate and I just wasn't sure on how I wanted this to turn out. Miroku saved the day in the end, although Sango did still experience a trauma. Lots of dissociation too (lost of contact with reality, like when she can't feel her body, sounds are distorted, amnesia of the events), which is a protection mechanism in traumatic situations.

We'll see how she fares, hum?

I have my ideas on what will happen next so, stay tuned, the next chapter is coming! I'll try to go back to updating more regularly too.

As usual, big thanks to everyone that reviewed. It's always a pleasure to read what you have to say.


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 12**

Sango winced as she sat up slowly.

She brought one hand up to massage the muscles of her neck, trying to lessen the crick she got from sleeping on the floor. For a second she felt disoriented, not understanding where she was, and why she felt so battered.

The young slayer then brought a hand to scrub at her crusty eyes and flinched. Her cheek started throbbing painfully, reminding her of last night events.

She felt around her cheekbone and detected swelling, then worked at her jaw. There was none of the pain associated with a broken jaw. Her fingertips moved to press against her puffy lower lip. No blood wet her fingers, indicating that the cut had somewhat scabbed over. She opened her uniform carefully, and took off the top while throwing a considering look at the man still unconscious on her cot.

His breathing still seemed ragged, but sounded deep, indicating sleep. He would not wake while she tended to her wounds, granting her the privacy she needed.

She undid the bandages from around her chest and put aside the tattered strips of clothing. They were rather threadbare and dirty, but they were all that she had. She would not waste the little water she had on cleaning herself or her clothing, especially now that she had to care for Miroku. He would need all of the water because of his fever, either to stay hydrated, or to bring down his temperature. Thus, if her skin was not broken where she had gotten hurt, she would not waste any water to clean herself.

The young woman looked down at her chest and winced as her fingertips touched the swell of her breasts.

Teeth marks surrounded one of her nipples, the imprint of each single tooth creating a dark bruise with red radiating edges on her milky skin. Another set of bite marks marred the swell of her other breast. Both areas felt tender and swollen, throbbing under her gentle probing. However, the skin seemed intact, to her great relief. Bites were particularly likely to get infected, were they the result of a human, a demon, or an animal.

Sango bit down on her lower lip and started wrapping her chest bindings carefully around her torso, wincing as the snug piece of clothe scrapped against her skin.

_Distantly she felt hands on her breasts, roughly groping, and then lower, tugging at her bindings_.

The slayer blinked and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. The thought stayed in her brain, sticky like honey, until it was all she could think about. She racked a hand through her hair and let out a shuddering sigh, looking at the silent man sleeping on her cot.

..._ hands on her breasts, roughly groping..._

She jumped as the door to her cell opened and a guard came in. Immediately the frantic woman grasped at her uniform and put her arms through the sleeves as quickly as possible. She worked at the fastenings as the man walked over and dropped one bowl of water and some mouldy bread. Without even a look in her direction, he turned and walked away. Sango looked longingly at the water, but picked up the bowl and shuffled to Miroku's side.

His skin felt warm and clammy to her touch as she brushed his sweat soaked bangs off of his forehead. Worry gnawed at her heart. His sickness was not one she knew. What had caused this? Would he even survive? And in such conditions, could he really? With little food and water, in a damp dirty cell, how could he have any chance of recovering?

The monk moaned lowly in his sleep, shivers wracking his body.

The slayer shook her head, and pushed away her worries. She picked up Miroku's upper body, straining with the effort, and propped him up against her chest. He did not wake. Worry flared anew. She carefully reached for the bowl of water and balanced it between her knees.

"Miroku..." The young woman whispered gently, brushing her fingertips along his cheeks. He did not wake.

"Miroku, you need to drink," she tried again. The man did not respond, but his breathing changed, becoming faster and more laboured. His head lolled on her shoulder limply.

"Miroku, please!" Her voice broke as she pleaded with him to wake. She tilted his head back slightly and brushed her thumb along the seam of his lips, opening them gently.

"You need to drink some water," the young woman breathed in his ear. The monk opened his eyes slowly and licked his parched lips. He seemed dazed and confused. Sango brought the bowl of clean water to his lips carefully and tilted it until some of the liquid sloshed in his mouth. The man coughed, chocking on the fluid. She immediately propped him higher against her chest and leaned forward slightly with one arm wrapped across his chest. His coughing finally subdued as she soothingly brushed his hair back.

"Shhhh... drink, Miroku, please," She brought the bowl to his lips again, and let the water trickle down his throat. He swallowed a few mouthfuls, and turned away. Disappointment and fear bloomed in her chest as it became apparent that he had only worsened through the night. He had saved her from being taken against her will once more. She was grateful, oh so grateful for his help.

Sango laid him down gently once more, his head pillowed in her lap.

How he had known, she had no idea. His timing had been uncanny. Even so, how could he even have had the strength to come to her rescue? Guilt gnawed at her heart. It seemed that the little energy he had had he had spent on rescuing her, instead of on his own recovery.

Yet, what she feared the most, at this moment, was that the illness that plagued her friend was the one they had been trying to stop.

Sango shuddered, her mind revolting at the idea. She forcefully pushed away the thought, staring at the sleeping man. He was not sick with this plague. He couldn't be. Yet, even as she tried to reassure herself, she knew that only the future would tell.

For now, they could only wait.

.

.

.

"Where the hell is Miroku?" Inu Yasha screamed to the guard as he slammed him against the wall.

"Inu Yasha!" Kagome cried out as she reached out to pry the hanyou's hands from the helpless guard, who looked about ready to wet himself in fear. Her meagre strength was no match for the half demon though, and he merely ignored her.

"Where!" He asked as he shook the guard gapping at him. The man glanced helplessly at Kagome, begging evident in his eyes. The miko gripped her friend's arm tighter, digging her nails into his skin through the fire rat haori he wore.

"INU YASHA!" She said sharply, trying to gather the stubborn half-demon's attention.

"LET. HIM. GO.!"She ground out. The hanyou ignored her, pushing his face closer to the shaking guard's and baring his fangs in a menacing smile. The underlying threat in the gesture was more than evident, something that the guard was well aware of as he started gasping for breath.

"Don't make me say IT, Inu Yasha." The girl from the future noticed Inu Yasha's jaw tighten, a muscle starting to twitch under his skin. Silently, he let the guard go, but did not move from his position, still inches away from the other young man and in order to intimidate him.

Kagome watched the guard gather whatever courage he had left and scurry away. As he turned a corner sharply, she turned her attention back to the white-haired man standing in front of her, still facing the wall, hands balled into fists at his sides.

"Inu Yasha," she said gently, reaching out to touch his sleeve. The hanyou evaded her touch, ignoring her hurt look and giving her his back as he turned towards the other end of the hallway.

"Inu Yasha," She tried again, taking a step closer. The miko laid a hand on his back lightly. She felt a slight tremor go through his body for reasons unknown to her, yet his posture remained tense and angry.

"Don't, Kagome..." The hanyou grounded out quietly. The thinly veiled anger in his voice surprised her. Regrets flooded her and she let her hand fall to her side limply, her energy sapped. She had hurt him, even though she hadn't meant to. She knew the half demon cared about their friends, and that his actions were only the reflection of his worry. Yet, she also knew that intimidating the guards into trying to find out where the monk had gone was not the way to go. The daimio had refused to meet them about the state of their friend, saying that he had more urgent matter to attend to than the missing monk. No one seemed to know where he was, really, and Inu Yasha's attitude was not helping at all. All it did was scare people away or make them aggressive in return. Yes, they needed to find out where was Miroku, but they also needed to keep good relationships with these people, at the very least for the imprisoned slayer's sake. They could find a way to fix this. She was sure of it.

"Inu Yasha..." The hanyou fixated his gaze to the floor, totally ignoring her attempts at connecting with him. He stepped away from her and moved forward decidedly, stalking away.

"We'll do it your fucking way. For now." He called out, leaving the miko staring at his back anxiously.

.

.

.

"Taijiya-sama, wake up!" Sango woke up with a startled snort. She blearily looked at the man in her lap, saw that he was still in troubled sleep and frowned.

"Taijiya-sama.," a soft voice called out. The slayer glanced at the door of her cell, where a young woman stood.

Sango moved aside slowly and laid Miroku's head on the cot gently. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she got up. She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall for a second. When her vision cleared, the young woman shuffled to the bars of the cell, where the maid waited nervously.

She saw the other woman throw a look over her shoulder, prompting her to follow her gaze. Sango saw a young man peek into the room, nod, and turn back to stand outside. She recognized him as the young man she had saved and drunk with, the one who had reminded her so of Akio. This, she thought, was the fresh-faced maid he had been so eager for her to meet, and who had left in a hurry.

"Chou?" She mumbled confusedly. The young maid gave her a shaky smile. In fact, as she looked the young woman over, she noticed that she was shaking. Fear shone in her eyes.

"Taijiya-sama." Tears welled up in the young maid's eyes. Sango's confusion only increased.

"I am so, so sorry," she sobbed out, clutching the bars in dainty hands and putting her forehead down on top of her fists. The young woman licked her lips, watching the maid fall into pieces in front of her and trying to think of something to say.

"It's all my fault," she mumbled against her hands. The slayer touched the back of her head gently, trying to comfort the girl awkwardly, now more at loss than ever. The young guard peeked inside, looking agitated and annoyed as he took into the scene.

"Do it, Chou!" He called out lowly to the young woman. She straightened slowly, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders, and gave her a pleading look. Sango returned the gaze with a scrutinizing stare, wondering what all of this was about.

"I... I'm the one who told Takeda-sama who you were!" The slayer recoiled, stepping back a few feet in surprise. She nearly sat on Miroku's legs as she plopped down next to him, stunned. She could not fathom how the maid knew her, and why she had decided to run to the daimio and warn him of her presence, especially when she had just helped save her fiancé.

"...and I remembered you from before, when you came here to be groomed..." The slayer blinked, staring down at her hands clasped in her lap.

"...I was so jealous of you. I... Rikuto-sama...told me he loved me...you came...bride...told me I was unworthy...hated you..." Sango glanced at the floor, her mind going blank. Only the sound of her heart pounding touched her ears, drowning the sound of everything else for a moment. The long-haired girl glanced at the maid babbling away anxiously, tears streaming down her face, her eyes beseeching. She watched her lips move but could only hear part of what she was saying.

"...came back...I didn't think this would happen...told him you were here..." The sound suddenly rushed back into her ears, as if she was stepping out from under water. She blinked at the maid, catching her eyes and holding her gaze.

"What did you think would happen?" She whispered softly, tears prickling at her eyes. Her limbs felt limp, heavy under the weight of what she had learned. She couldn't understand what she had done to deserve this. The words she had heard from the maid didn't make sense to her, not when all she could feel was sadness and anger. All of this pain, all of these problems, because this maid had decided to let the young heir know she was in the castle. And for what?

The maid scrubbed at her cheeks with her sleeves, sniffling. Sango tightened her hands into fists in her lap.

Miroku was sick, in her cell, no sign of recovery evident. Kagome and Inu Yasha were Kami only knows where, and she was in this cell, condemned forever. Miroku and she would be seen executed by the young heir for what had transpired the night before, and Inu Yasha and Kagome would protest this fate, and would be hurt as a consequence of their rebellion. Furthermore, who would pursue those responsible for this plague, the one that was killing so many people? How long too, had they lost, because of this girl's selfishness? Bubbles of anger, sadness, fear and loathing grew and grew in her chest, until it felt like her ribcage and skin would explode from the strain of keeping them constrained. A soft strangled sob escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

"WHAT did you THINK would HAPPEN?" The slayer hissed out as tears streamed down her cheeks. She deserved what awaited her for coming back in this kingdom, for breaking what were the laws of her punishment. Others though, the ones that had been dragged into this with her, did not deserve what would come.

She stood up, grasping the bars to avoid reaching out to the girl. The maid's face reddened as she burst into tears once more, snot running down her nose as she gurgled out words of apologies. Sango's own tears ran down her cheeks slowly, nearly painfully warm against her chilled skin.

"Chou!" The young man outside hissed out.

Sango shut her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from coming, knowing that she could not let her feelings get the best of her. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to lessen the overwhelming weight of her feelings against her chest. She heard the young maid shuffle around, but kept her eyes closed. She couldn't bear to look at the young woman.

"I brought some food... and medicine for you..." She heard the softly whispered words and felt something being pressed against her stomach between the bars. Sango opened her eyes and looked down at a hastily wrapped parcel. She licked her lips and took the item to cradle it against her belly, keeping it hidden between their bodies in case someone walked by.

"I..."

"Chou!" The young man outside of the door interrupted, his voice now more panicked than angry.

"I hope that with time you will forgive me..." The young maid whispered earnestly. For a second she seemed to wish to say so much more, but she finally turned and ran for the door. Sango watched her go until the heavy wooden door closed behind her, muffling the sound of the couples' hurried steps.

The slayer turned her gaze to the parcel in her hands and fingered the cord keeping it tied together. She didn't know if she could forgive the young maid, not when she knew what awaited all of them. Sango brushed the tears on her cheek carefully, mindful of her swollen cheek. Yet, for now, such things did not matter. She would have all the time in the world to examine her feelings about Chou and this revelation as she spent her days in this cell, waiting.

Sango turned, putting her back to the door of the cell, and opened the parcel carefully. Fresh bread, cheese and plums greeted her, making her mouth water. The smell of fresh food made her stomach ache, only reminding her of how long it had been since she had last eaten. She wanted to shove the food in her mouth, scared someone would come and take it away, but knew that she needed to find a way to stretch it out for Miroku.

He would need his strength.

A vial of liquid was cradled between the bread and cheese, with a small folded note. Sango sat down slowly and put the food aside. She opened the note to find hastily written instructions on what to do with the medicine. She uncorked the vial carefully and smelled at the content, unsure of how much she could trust the young maid who had had no qualms about putting her in this predicament. The smell of familiar herbs greeted her nose. She wracked her brain as she tried to remember what herbs these particular scents were associated it, but her thoughts were slow and muddled from hunger and fear.

She sniffed again at the content of the vial.

Poison.

These smells were those of a strong anti poison, one usually made by healers when the source of an illness was unknown, but food or herbal poisoning was suspected. The herbs were thought to strengthen the body and purge impurities that had been ingested.

Unless another ingredient had been added, this would be fairly safe. Mind made up, Sango closed the vial and put it aside carefully.

"Miroku?" She whispered gently, brushing his hair away from his forehead. The man groaned and opened his eyes slightly. He seemed disoriented as he looked at her, sitting up painstakingly. He finally gave up with a groan and let himself fall back, leaning weakly against the wall behind the cot.

"San..go?" He croaked out. The young woman hid her concern behind a gentle reassuring smile, the one that her own mother had given her when she had been sick as a child, and that she had learned to use with Kohaku when he had gotten sick.

"You need to eat, houshi-sama." She said quietly. The man blinked at her, seemingly unable to understand her. She broke off small pieces in the center of the bread and brought them to his mouth, hoping that the softer texture would make it easier for him to eat. He parted his lips for each small bite, chewing slowly and swallowing with difficulties. The actions were repeated for pieces of a plum and some cheese, until he turned his face away from her fingers. He had eaten so little, and he was obviously weak, but he had eaten, which was a step in the right direction.

Sango bit her lip as she picked up the leftover water from the ground and balanced the bowl in her lap. She put a few drops of the medicine in the water, and forced him to swallow a little more of what was left of the liquid.

He turned his face away from her weakly, protesting, but she coaxed him to drink more, tears prickling at her eyes.

"A little bit more, houshi-sama. Please," She breathed out. He slapped at the bowl weakly, sending it and the remaining water to the floor. With a sudden lurch, the convulsing man leaned over the edge of the cot and started dry heaving, saliva falling from his mouth in thin strands. Sango immediately moved to support his shoulders and brushed his hair back, cooing softly in reassurance. Within moments his back rigidified and whatever he had eaten came out of his body. Yet, what scared the young slayer as the monk vomited was the black gooey mass that came out after the food. The unknown substance splattered all over the ground. Miroku rubbed a shaky hand against his mouth, smearing more of the black substance against his pallid skin.

Sango watched as he laid back down, curling in a shivering ball.

This time, she could not stop the sobs from bursting out.

.

.

.

Inu Yasha stalked the halls of the castle, glowering at any maid or guard he met. The fact that he could not pursue his investigation as he wished pissed him off.

Kagome.

Kagome wanted to do this peacefully. She said that "talking" was the way of fixing things.

Right.

She didn't know those types.

He did.

For a short while, he had been raised among those nobles, and he had learned very quickly what they were like. Some were kind, many were not. Rikuto's type he knew very well. He had not met the man personally before, but he had met many like him before.

They were men high on their own power, and sure of their domination over others. Power was what ruled them, and anyone who seemingly denied them this power, or refused to bow in front of it, was punished for it. The man wanted power over others and lived for it.

When Sango, so long ago, had lashed out at him because she did not wish to receive his attentions, she had denied him this power. He knew such a deed was never left unpunished. The man would make her pay for this, again and again until he established his domination over her. Now, he had this occasion, and he would not let it go.

Miroku, too, would not escape unscathed; the man had humiliated him by knocking him out with a single punch. Unless he could humiliate Miroku in return, that damn heir would not leave him alone.

As it was, the sick monk was missing. For all they knew the bastard son of the daimio had had him thrown back into jail or smuggled out of the castle to be killed and left in the forest to be eaten by wild animals. They needed to find him. Now.

As it was, they would not leave this place alive if they continued on this path. Sango would never leave; there was no doubt in his mind now that the man wouldn't let her. And of course, Miroku and Kagome would not leave without the slayer. They would have to fight for her freedom, which meant that they were fucked.

They needed to find Miroku, then break the slayer out, and leave this castle. They had better things to do than play political games with the royal family, such as putting an end to this plague and getting the shikon shard that Kagome had felt around this area when they had rushed into their battle with those freakish zombies. If the daimio was going to be a pain in their ass, well they would do this without him.

The hanyou snorted as he took a left turn. Talking, his ass. Talking would fix nothing. There would be no way this would be fixed by talking. The daimio was soft in his old age, unwilling to go against his precious son's wishes.

Pussy.

Something soft bounced off of his chest, landing at his feet with a soft "eep". He glowered at the small figure on the ground in front of him. Obviously flustered, the young maid stood up. Yet, instead of stepping aside or going on her way, she stayed in front of him, staring at him with fear in her eyes.

"What do ya want, wench?" He said finally, annoyed with her staring.

"I... I need to talk to you...about...about your friends..." Immediately the half demon perked up, grinning widely at the young woman. Yet, the smile was less than reassuring. He gripped the young girl's arm tightly but carefully and dragged her away into a more secluded corner. Finally, he would get answers. Kagome would have to deal. They were running out of time; they would do things his way now.

"Start talking!" Inu Yasha barked out. Chou took a deep shaky breath, and started babbling as fast as possible, hoping that the wild looking half demon would not eat her in retaliation for what she was about to say.

End chapter.

Alright! So the stage is set! Hopefully everybody was in character and everyone who read enjoyed. Lotsa action is coming up soon, so stay tuned! I have many surprises in store for you...

And, of course, a big thanks to my faithful reviewers. It's always nice to hear what you guys have to say!


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 13**

Sango woke up to the sound of Miroku throwing up all over the floor of their cell. She immediately rushed to his side, smoothing his hair back as he shook under the strain of his body's violent purging.

Only bile and speckles of the black gooey substance she had previously noticed were expelled from his body. His stomach was empty, and yet there seemed to be no end in sight.

The monk appeared to be deteriorating with each minute. It was to a point where the slayer had started wondering if the anti-poison had not been laced with something else. It was unlikely, but she was hard pressed to find a reason for his continuous decline. Yet, even as she told herself this, she knew she was lying to herself in order to avoid a darker but so much more likely reason.

Another more brutal possibility, one that she refused to think about, but that would invade her thoughts against her will, was that soon, very soon, black pustules would appear on her friend's skin. And that, in itself, was an unbearable thought.

If it were the case, what could she do? What could anyone do? No remedy had been found for this illness, and the cause remained unknown. There would be no way to heal the monk. And then, what would happen?

She helped the older man to lie back down, trying to ignore the stench emanating from the vomit on the floor. It smelled putrid, like old carcasses baking in the sun. That smell, she knew, was not normal.

A reminder.

Her stomach rolled, the meagre food she had eaten not sitting well in her stomach.

The slayer stared hard at the wall, trying to count the cracks in the rocks. To be idle was to think, and to think meant imagining the worst.

Sango stood up as the lock of the wooden door outside of her cell room turned. Several guards sporting weapons entered, staring at her through the bars of her cell. She immediately took a step back, fear squeezing at her throat, making it a struggle to breath. She threw a look over her shoulder at the man sleeping on her cot and her panic receded.

_Protect the weak._

Her training took over effortlessly. Sango took a defensive stance in front of the sick man's prone form. If they had decided to hurt them, or execute them, she would fight for her friend's life, no matter how helpless things were. He didn't deserve to die, not for her mistakes.

She would fight.

For him.

For Miroku.

The guards unlocked the iron door and entered the cell slowly, fanning out.

"Stand down, Taijiya," the leader called out, hand tightening on the pommel of his sword. His men followed suit.

Sango took in a sharp breath, muscles tensing as she readied herself for an attack. The odds were against her; there was no way she would be able to fight one of them off, even less five. Already her muscles protested her movements, cramping painfully. She valiantly ignored the pain, taking stock of her foes. One of the men she knew had an injury to his ribcage, as he had been one of the young men she had helped. Landing a good hit would bring unimaginable pain, and if she's lucky, might even break his cracked rib, taking him out of the fight. She doubted the young man had the training necessary to overcome the pain and continue fighting.

This left her with four men, unhurt, and trained. Two seemed older too, one of them being the leader. In either case, their age also indicated more battle experience. Those two were more dangerous. She licked her lips.

"_You cannot best me, Sango." Trembling slightly, the black-haired girl took her position. Her technique was shaky and gross, not yet perfected from years of training. There would be a time to hone her skills, but there was no time for what she had to do._

_Protect the weak at the cost of your own life._

"_You. Will. Never. Touch. Him!" She hissed out harshly, bringing her dagger in front of her body, her wrist supple and her muscles tensed for an attack._

Sango shook the memory off as it intruded on her thoughts, distracting her for a split second. A similar feeling of helplessness, one she had experienced then and had promised herself to never feel again filled her. The leader attacked at that moment, swinging at her with the pommel of his sword, trying to hit her in the stomach. The slayer ducked and rolled, coming up next to the man with the broken rib. Trying to ignore her dizziness from the abrupt move, she came up to one knee and struck at her target.

The slayer heard the crack as her palm hit the soldier's side. The man cried out in pain, and Sango winced, her arm throbbing painfully. She bit down on her lower lip, reopening the wound, and tasted blood. The pain sharpened her senses, making her aware enough to duck as one of the remaining guards tried to hit her in the back of the head. The fighter stood up, her back against the wall. Luck was on her side as she fought in the cramped space. The men had to be careful not to hurt each other. She had no such need.

She glanced at Miroku and froze. The leader stood over him, a blade at his neck. She tongued her cut lip, the sharp pain helping her think as she quickly assessed her options.

"Stand down, Taijiya, or he goes." The slayer stared at him, searching his face for signs of deceit, and found none. She had expected as such from this man. Slowly she loosened her muscles and leaned back against the wall weakly, the fight leaving her body. She moved her gaze to Miroku's face, watching him sorrowfully.

The slayer bit down harder on her lower lip, trying to distract herself from the tears prickling at her eyes. She would not cry in front of these men.

Immediately two guards rushed at her.

She ignored them.

A sudden pain stole her breath. The young woman bent over, trying to gasp in some air but unable to do so. She dimly realised that one of the soldiers had hit her in the diaphragm. Through watery eyes she glanced at Miroku once more. Nausea made saliva pool in her mouth as she noticed he was being shaken by the leader. Panic flared anew. Yet, contrary to her expectations, the warrior's touch was careful as he tried to rouse the monk.

"Stand down, Katsurou!" The leader said severely, glancing up at one of the guards now holding onto her arms.

"She broke Saburou's rib, when we were only..." A hand tightened in her hair, pulling her head back harshly. Sango winced as she felt strands of hair being pulled out of her scalp. The leader stepped closer, an angry scowl on his face.

"Then he needs to train harder! The girl is weak and was still able to injure him!" The words were spoken with slight disdain. The older soldier's voice grew once more cold and emotionless as he barked out his next orders.

"Bring Saburou to the healer. Then it's double guard duties for you." The man let go of her hair with a shove. She let her head fall forward and listened to their conversation, knowing for now to keep her peace.

"But," the leader immediately cut his subordinate off.

"You disobeyed Hojo-sama's order. Take your punishment, soldier." The other soldier behind her took a hold of her other arm and tied them quickly behind her back, while another older man hovered, keeping a watchful eye on her. Sango tested her bonds subtly and found them to be too tight to escape, yet not tight enough to cause her pain.

Her brows furrowed.

The leader gestured to the cot and the two younger soldiers stepped forward, taking hold of the blanket on each end until they pulled up the holy man. They stepped outside of the cell, following behind their leader. The slayer followed immediately and to her surprise, was not stopped by her own guard. Nonetheless, he kept a light touch on her shoulder as they followed the men in the front. Sango studied the walls as they walked, trying to discern where they were being brought.

Rikuto's threat echoed in her head.

He had promised to rape her in front of Miroku before killing them both.

The young woman shuddered and her mouth dried up. Her stomach churned uneasily as terror clawed at her heart. She took a deep breath, knowing that she couldn't allow herself to break down. There was still a chance she could bargain with the heir for Miroku's life, and small as it may be, she had to take it.

To her confusion, they went up a floor and turned towards a cleaner and bigger cell furnished with better bedding and a low table. The leader put Miroku carefully on one of the futons. Two big bowls of water were pushed against one wall, next to a room separator. A little bit of food was piled on a plate on the table: dried meat, bread and fruits, the smell of which made her mouth water. Next to the plate were folded yukatas. The guard at her back pushed her into the room. Sango stumbled, unaware that she had stood still, shocked motionless.

The guard undid her bonds quickly and stepped back outside. The leader, followed by his subordinates, exited and closed the cell door shut, all while the slayer stared, stunned.

Finally, Sango broke out of her stupor and took in her surroundings, suspicious and flabbergasted at her current situation. She did not dare touch anything, no matter how tempting for fear of retribution. It would not be unlike Rikuto to put such needed items within reach and to punish her for touching anything without his permission.

"Move back, Taijiya!" Sango stumbled back, still in too much shock to argue.

A child tucked into folds upon folds of kimonos entered, her hair coiffed in an intricate updo. A few guards followed, but stood back near the entrance. The older soldier that had been in charge of their transportation to this new cell stood close to the young girl, his body language protective.

The slayer immediately bowed, recognising the Takeda's young wife-to-be. Even though the girl was young, she carried herself with the assurance of her station, demure, but sure of her place in this world. Sango waited with baited breath, confused by the girl's presence. All this time she had feared the daimio's heir, and had never thought that his young fiancé might take a dim view of her husband-to-be's obsession with her. The thought that noblewomen had been eliminated for less by a lady of higher station crossed her mind. Nobles could be ruthless between themselves, something that she shouldn't have forgotten.

"Stand up, please." The taijiya straightened but avoided the young lady's eyes, fixing her gaze somewhere over her shoulder. She glanced at the young girl's face for a split second, looking for any sign of bruises. She found none, but this did not mean that the girl hadn't been punished for disrupting Rikuto. The girl regarded her for a moment before nodding slightly.

"Bathe yourself and the monk. Your clothing will be washed." Sango detected disgust in the girl's voice and flinched, even though she knew she must be a smelly mess. Her tone of voice was too reminiscent of the one other nobles had used to whisper in her back when she had been groomed in this castle. Yet, she also felt relief at the thought of being able to clean herself. However, she would also need to clean her friend. Pink rose to her cheek as she glanced at the sleeping monk..

"I will come back at a later time for tea." The girl paused.

"I expect you still remember how to entertain." With these last parting words, she turned and left the room, followed by the guards. Sango watched her go quietly, her confusion reaching a new height. She could not fathom what the young heiress wanted from her, and why she had been brought to this new cell.

She turned to face the monk sprawled haphazardly on his futon, then at the water in the two bowls. The sound of feet shuffling attracted her attention to the door of her cell. Two guards stood outside, the quiet older man which had escorted her peeking at her through the bars, his gaze curious.

Sango recoiled slightly, a flush rising on her cheeks. She cleared her throat and installed the room separator.

.

.

.

Kagome followed Inu Yasha into the main hall as he walked quickly, ears and nose twitching. She understood his need to hurry. Chou, a maid in the castle, had informed Inu Yasha that Miroku was with Sango, both imprisoned in her small cell. She had also warned them that they were not getting any edible food and very little water, enough for one person, really, if even. Sick as the monk was, it was likely that such an environment would make his illness worsen. He needed to be moved back to his room. Furthermore, after all this time, the miko could only imagine what state Sango was in. So many days without eating and bathing could only mean a declining health, and that was without the psychological toll. What had sent Inu Yasha on such a warpath though was that when they had gone to Sango's cell, it had been empty, thus starting a new chase to find their whereabouts.

A wide victorious smile appeared on the hanyou's face as he quickened his steps before turning a corner sharply. The miko started jogging to catch up with him and turned the corner to bounce back against a hard wall of muscles. She griped the fire red haori in front of her in order to stay upright, and peeked around Inu Yasha's side as he spread his stance. The annoyed daimio stood in front of them, surrounded by guards and members of his entourage.

Kagome winced, knowing there was trouble brewing.

"Where are Miroku and Sango?" Inu Yasha called out. The daimio's men started coming forwards, readying their swords for any sign of an attack. Inu Yasha smiled threateningly, reaching out for his own sword. Panic rose inside of her at the sight. A man armed to the teeth stepped out of the shadows, unseen previously as he blended in the shadows with his black leather outfit. He took a threatening step towards the hanyou, taking out dual blades from sheaths on his back.

The daimio raised one hand, making the man halt in his tracks. He then rubbed at the ridge of his nose, obviously aggravated.

"They have been moved to a more adequate cell. Now, be gone. I have much more urgent matters to attend to! Come Yuuto-san, we will speak in my office." The daimio called out as he pushed pass Inu Yasha. The man in the black leather outfit gave the hanyou a scowl as he passed by and bumped his shoulder against the half demon's quite purposely. Inu Yasha bared his teeth in answer, watching him go.

Kagome sighed, praying once more that the hanyou's more confrontational nature wouldn't make things harder for Miroku and Sango.

.

.

.

Sango took a long look at Miroku as he slept. Now clean, wearing a simple yukata, she felt better.

Somewhat.

Some things would take a while before they would be washed away. Her time spent in that tiny cell and the associated attack at the hands of Rikuto would stay entrenched in her memories for years to come. Yet, she told herself not to dwell on those thoughts, for there was a more urgent matter for her to attend to.

The slayer bit down on her lower lip and approached Miroku. He had curled on his side on the futon, but was otherwise sleeping quite deeply. The young woman took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to find the courage to do what she had been ordered to.

To defy the young lady's order could lead to very negative outcomes, if the girl so wished. She couldn't afford to take the risk, not when Miroku was in such a shape. She also knew that the simple fact of being clean, instead of stewing in his sweat drenched clothing, could help the monk in his recovery. That was also without counting the numerous stains from speckles of vomit that dotted his robes.

She brought the room separator closer and placed it in front of the futon, allowing her some privacy. For a moment, she simply breathed, trying to avoid the moment where she would have to disrobe Miroku. Finally gathering her courage, she went to her knees next to his bedding. The young woman started undoing the monk's clothing, first untying the knot of his purple wrap, then opening his robes.

The smell of sweat and sickness became stronger as she parted the folds of clothing to bare his chest to her gaze.

Sango stopped breathing.

A black pustule on his side oozed black reddish liquid.

A chocked sob escaped her throat. Her body jerked under the strain of holding back the sound. Her hands rose to cover her mouth and nose as she clenched her eyes shut and sobbed soundlessly, rocking back and forth. Yet, against her will, whimpers escaped her throat, small high pitched noises loud in the silence.

Unable to hold herself up anymore, her body folded, as if the strings had been cut, and her forehead touched the mattress of the futon. Sango shook as she felt her chest being torn open. She felt as if she was drowning, unable to breath. For a moment, she wished that she could claw her chest open and tear out her heart, shredding any ties that aching organ had with her body. Maybe then, she wouldn't feel as if a sword had pierced her flesh and was being twisted slowly.

She smothered her cries into the thick cloth of the futon, all the while clutching at her mouth, trying to swallow back her pain. Yet, her heart continued throbbing painfully.

Finally, she let go of her mouth and breathed in a chocked breath, then another, and again, until she started panting, unable to get enough hair.

A keening noise escaped her throat. She clutched at the bedding underneath her cheek, her knuckles turning white as she held on as if for dear life.

The young slayer turned her head, staring at the grey wall, hyperventilating as tears and snot ran down her face. Her world held still, her mind blank as she cried.

A warm hand settled heavily atop of her hair.

"Why...are you...crying...S'ngo?" The lowly spoken words reached her ears. Her eyelids slid shut as she shuddered. The young woman swallowed thickly, not answering.

The fingers brushed her bangs gently and touched her cheekbone. Sango bit back another sob and gasped in a breath, before taking the warm hand in her hair and holding it between hers. She brushed her face against the bedding, trying to erase the proof of her sorrow before straightening up slowly.

The young woman opened her eyes slowly, and purple orbs caught her gaze. Her lower lip trembled at the strain of keeping her heart from breaking once more as she stared at her friend.

"Miroku," she whispered, her voice shaky and scratchy. The holy man smiled at her gently and tightened his fingers around hers.

"Don't cry," he breathed out. Against her will, a sob escaped her throat. Immediately, she clamped a hand against her mouth, digging her fingernails in the skin of her cheek. Miroku swallowed thickly and tried to speak once more. A cough swallowed whatever words he had been trying to say.

The slayer shook her head and pressed the pads of her fingers against his lips lightly.

"We need to get you clean, Miroku. Can you sit up, with my help?" The man searched her eyes, seemingly looking for something, but before she could discern more he looked away and nodded. He sat up with a wince and shrugged off the rest of his robes. Colours rose on her cheeks, prompting her to look away, too uncomfortable at the intimacy of the situation. Yet, no matter what, the black mark on his side gathered her attention, bringing her gaze back to him and reminding her of what she had been fearing the most.

The holy man laid back down, his breathing laboured from the exertion of simply disrobing. He now only wore his fundoshi, the white clothing not doing much to hide his anatomy from her gaze. Immediately, she looked elsewhere, fighting the urge to bolt.

Sango swallowed thickly and reached for the cloth in the soapy water basin. She wrung the washcloth and turned to the young man.

Her hesitation must have shown, for a warm hand covered hers.

"I can," he rasped out. The slayer shook her head and took a deep breath, readying herself. Keeping hold of the hand that she already held, she started washing his arm with gentle strokes. The blushing woman kept her gaze firmly on the cloth as it moved over his skin, trying to detach herself from the situation.

Fifteen minutes later she sat back on her haunches and bit down on her lower lip, glancing at her sick companion from under her lashes. The monk watched her with feverish and intent eyes. She gasped in a breath and tightened her fingers around the cloth in her hand.

He smiled teasingly and reached for the washcloth.

"I'll take care of the rest." Finally giving in her urge, she bolted, going to the other side of the separator.

As she stared at her feet, waiting for the monk to be done, the sight of the black mark on Miroku's side haunted her thoughts.

.

.

.

Sango turned as the young heiress entered the cell regally, followed by the same older soldier and another younger soldier she had never seen before. She quickly scrambled at her feet from her spot beside the sleeping monk.

The slayer bowed at the child, and waited with baited breath. Now that the girl was there, her heart beat with trepidation. She would finally know why and how they had come to be in such a place, as well as what awaited them.

"Let us sit down," the girl said softly, her manners impeccable. Her voice was soft and innocent, high because of her youth. Sango sat down primly, forcing herself not to slouch from tiredness.

"I have stayed the execution on the monk." Sango looked up at the girl in disbelief before directing her gaze down at her lap once more. She started shaking, hoping that the girl was saying the truth, and not playing with her, raising her hopes up only to crush them.

"You look surprised, Taijiya," she said amusedly. Sango's brows furrowed as she continued staring at her lap. Chou swept in the room and put tea on the low table before bowing and leaving. The slayer studiously ignored her, her gaze frozen as she tried to think of a suitable answer. The heiress cleared her throat, prompting Sango to spring into action. Immediately she began the tea preparation, going through the motions she had been taught as a child.

"I have more power in this castle that you seem to think, Taijiya." The slayer swallowed, but continued moving, trying to concentrate on the familiarity of the gestures to calm down her racing heart.

"My name is Hojo Yuuka." Sango's hand jerked as she heard the name, her gaze rising to meet that of her guest. The Hojo clan held Musashi, Sagami and Izu. The daimio did not have as much power as the Takeda daimio, but he was a well respected feudal lord nonetheless. Her mahogany orbs clashed with grey ones. She immediately looked down, flinching even as she realised her faux-pas.

"Do not be so surprised. Such political marriages are not rare." The young girl took a sip of her tea and put the cup back on the table soundlessly, the image of a perfect young Japanese noblewoman. Sango closed her eyes and sighed. Many things made sense now.

The group of soldiers she had met seemed to be the personal bodyguards of the young girl, ensuring her well-being in this new environment. Sango knew that such political marriages were arranged for alliances, but that such alliances often contained little trust. It was likely her father had sent loyal guards with her that could not be swayed by the Takeda daimio. Both sides walked a thin line, though. The young girl could report to her family any reprehensible gesture, thus breaking the shaky relationship between both parties, but also served as insurance against a possible attack.

"I have been working towards ensuring his well-being, as well as your release." The words were spoken plainly and calmly, as if they were discussing the weather. In contrast, the slayers' hands shook even as she kept them clasped in her lap.

"Why?" She finally breathed out, puzzled.

"The Takeda are blind to their weakness. This...plague...will destroy us all, my own people as well. You and your friends may be the only ones that can help us now." She stood up suddenly, prompting Sango to follow suit. The slayer looked at the young heiress, troubled. Even at her young age, the girl made sense of the look and straightened up proudly, looking at the slayer haughtily.

"I have been groomed since birth for this, Taijiya." The slayer swallowed thickly, shaken. To be groomed for this? She had seen as a child, for a brief moment, the inner workings of the aristocracy. What she had seen had been darker than she could have ever imagined, even in the small amount of time she had witnessed it. In comparison, this girl had been taught to distrust, to pretend and to manipulate since birth in order to survive in a world where every weakness was used.

"It is my duty." She smiled then, a frozen polite smile, a mere quirk of her lips. Yet, her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness before determination made them turn a steely silver colour. She inclined her head gently in parting and left.

Sango watched her go, her heart aching for another child whose innocence had been ripped away from her.

End of chapter.

Alright! Another chapter, with more drama and some Sango/Miroku interactions.

As always, I hope that you enjoyed!

A big thanks to kaerfemina, Death101-Fox Version, Blue Wolf Angel2, YazzyBoo and Otaku-Sig for your reviews. I appreciate your support, and your taking time to review my fic. It always motivates me to see that people do read and enjoy this story.


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha

**Chapter 14**

_7 years ago_

"Hello uncle," a young girl whispered. She stood in the corner of the room, blending in the shadows.

The man startled, turning around and looking in surprise at his niece. Her hair was down, the short strands brushing her jaw with the breeze coming in from the window. Her body was covered in black training pants and a sleeveless haori. He noted that it was the usual attire for young trainees about to do an exercise, and frowned.

"Sango, you should be in bed," he said softly. She smiled sardonically at him, showing a row of straight white teeth bared in overt aggression. Moonlight reflected off of the metallic weapon in her hands, drawing the older man's eyes. Her uncle gave her a semi interested semi curious look, arching an eyebrow at the dagger she pointed at him menacingly.

"Shouldn't you also be in bed, uncle?" The man's otherwise pleasant expression started fading, replaced with discontent and annoyance. The girl's heart hammered in her chest, sweat dripping down her brow. Her defiance and confidence were merely a show of bravery, but she hoped her uncle would not see through it.

_Never show fear in face of a demon._

"Sango, I doubt your parents would appreciate you staying up this late. You know your training is important. You dishonoured our village; the least you could do is take your 'punishment' with honour." The man's voice was soft, meant not to wake the younger child sleeping in the room. He glanced toward the boy and back at Sango, who stepped forwards into the little light provided by the moon shining through the window.

"What do you know about honour, uncle?" Uttering those words, Sango stepped closer to the man and widened her stance, setting herself into a low crouch.

Her uncle took a step away from her sleeping brother's form, an angry expression appearing on his face.

_Force the demon away from the weak._

"I am taijiya, niece. You would do well to remember it." Sango snorted, struggling to keep her expression fierce, fighting so her anger would not be dominated by her fear of the man standing in front of her. He was the ultimate betrayal. He was the ultimate monster. None would scare her as he did.

"No, I am taijiya, uncle. You know nothing of protecting the weak." She emphasized the I, giving him a disgusted look. The man stalked closer to his niece, taking on a defensive stance in front of her.

"You cannot best me, Sango." Trembling slightly, the black-haired girl adjusted her position. Her technique was shaky and gross, not yet perfected from years of training. There would be a time to hone her skills, but there was no time for what she had to do.

_Protect the weak at the cost of your own life._

"You. Will. Never. Touch. Him!" She hissed out harshly, bringing her dagger in front of her body, her wrist supple but her muscles tensed for an attack.

_Observe your enemy. _

The man came closer to her, preparing to slap the knife out of her hand but she evaded him, lunging forwards for his arm. He quickly jumped back, backhanding her and looking at her in disbelief.

"You would attack me, Sango?" His voice implied that he was wounded by the thought even as he got in a defensive position, lowering his center of gravity to be closer to the ground. Her uncle thought her weak; he would not use his full strength on her. Furthermore, he would do whatever it took not to draw attention. She intended to use these to her advantage.

_Know their weaknesses._

"I am not the little girl you knew, uncle. You killed her." Blood bubbled up at her lower lip from the hit. Absentmindedly, she ran her tongue over the small wound, wincing as saliva touched it. Pain was good. Pain kept her grounded; it reminded her of times past, and fed her anger, thus pushing back the fear.

"Sango, I never hurt you. I only wanted to be close to you, because I love you." Anger surged deep within her. How could he believe his own lies? How could he think he never hurt her? Hadn't he heard her begging? Her cries? Her whimpers? Her screams? Hadn't he seen her body shaking? Her tears? Her blood?

_Curb your emotions, use them as a weapon._

Sango did not answer him, choosing to keep silent and concentrate. A senseless and chocking anger surged within her, her mind filled with the desire for justice, or for revenge. It goaded her into attacking him senselessly, only aiming to maim and destroy. It urged her to slash and draw blood until it dripped from his clothing and coloured his skin red. Yet, she chose not to listen to it. The small infant sleeping in the room was more important than her own pain. He remained untouched to this day. She would not let him befall the same fate as hers.

Never.

She had given her mother a promise. She had sworn to protect the weak, to protect Kohaku. She would now fight for him, and if it came down to it, give her life for him.

Sweet innocent Kohaku.

Sango lunged forwards, slashing at her uncle's chest quickly, trying to draw first blood. He jumped back once more, flipping on his hands and landing at the other side of the room. His expression became cold and serious before he lunged at her with a hook punch, which she blocked with her right arm. Pain radiated from her arm where she deflected the blow. In answer, she thrust the knife forward into an arc. Her uncle brought one leg up to kick at her hand before crouching and sending out his leg to sweep her legs out from under her. The girl jumped back with a one hand somersault but lost the dagger, which clattered on the ground. Her wrist felt sprained, the pain prompting her to cradle it to her chest. The pain only reminded her of the fact she was untrained compared to him, smaller, nowhere as strong.

_Know your own weaknesses._

Yet, she was young and lithe, thus making her fast.

The young slayer reeled back as her uncle sprung up from his crouch with a roundhouse kick. She bent backward, but still felt her attacker's heel graze her chin. Her skin felt abraded, burning lightly as she straightened up and dropped to a crouch to avoid the punch he aimed at her head next. The girl rolled to the side and came up in a defensive crouch a few feet away, panting. Her uncle regarded her confidently from his own position, mouth curled in a slightly taunting grin.

"Stop this nonsense, Sango. Go back to bed." She would need to act quickly. She could not afford to let him land blows on her. Already her right arm and left wrist throbbed from his hits, as well as her lower lip and chin. What would happen if he stopped holding back his strength and started landing hits in more strategic areas? Such a mistake would cost her victory, and Kohaku his innocence. She couldn't let Kohaku go through what she had been forced to endure. No one had protected her, but her little brother would always have her.

"No!" She grounded out lowly, stepping carefully in a more aggressive stance. Her uncle gave her a look of annoyance, relaxing his own stance in a mockery of her quasi-inexistent skills.

"This isn't a game Sango. You'll get hurt, little girl. Go back to bed. Now." The command was snapped harshly, but quietly, mindful of the boy surprisingly still asleep.

"No!" She emitted as a shrill cry, suddenly lunging towards her uncle and hitting him behind the back of the knee with a kick. She knew the man had a weak knee from a previous injury. Any edge she might have, she had to take. She felt a small surge of satisfaction as she saw her uncle buckle down from the hit, obviously unprepared for such an assault. He fell down on one knee on the floor. The man's face contorted in an ugly frown as he stood up slowly, favouring his right leg. He fixed a glare on his niece.

"You will regret this, Sango!" He grounded out between clenched teeth, his hands balled into fists. His knuckles turned white from the strain and he stepped forwards menacingly, still limping slightly. The young girl took a step back, any elation at having made a hit gone in the face of the danger her uncle now blatantly represented to her. She swallowed as well as she could, her mouth having gone dry.

She couldn't imagine what her chances of winning were. Yet, she was quite sure that winning was improbable. He was strong, stronger than she had thought, and she was unprepared. Yet, it had to be done. She had to fight, no matter what. She could lead him away from the hut. Her brother would be safe, if only for tonight. Tonight is what mattered. She would worry about the other days later.

The young girl turned quickly and fled into the night, her steps nearly silent as she ran. Her uncle quickly gave chase. He was well trained and an excellent tracker. More importantly, he was known for letting emotions get into his way. As such, she knew he would follow her. His anger was affecting his judgement. He would give chase, if only to assuage his rage.

She looked over her shoulder at the approaching form of her uncle, a cold wave of fear washing over her, all too similar to falling in a frozen lake in the winter. She let out a shrill shriek as she dashed towards the nearest hiding place, Midoriko's cave. The sound resonated into the silent night, followed by her pursuer's muffled curses.

A shout of pain escaped her lips just as she set foot in the cave, feeling her body being pulled backwards with a harsh tug on her hair. Her uncle wrapped his arm tight around her young body, trapping her against his own. He tilted her head back, pulling on her hair. His breathing sounded only slightly unsteady from the chase as he exhaled warmly against her cheek and ear. The sensation stirred buried memories, ones she fought to keep hidden deep inside of her psyche. The young girl gulped in big breathes of air, struggling against the restraining hold, frantic to break free. A feeling of déjà vu washed over her. Panic took hold of all rational thoughts as she trashed and started screaming loudly. Everything faded but for the thought that soon, it would happen again.

"Shit!" The man swore, dragging his captive deeper in the cave and covering her mouth with his hand. He shook her body harshly.

"Shut up dammit!" She continued trashing and screaming under his hand, only thinking of what awaited her. She did not care about being caught and punished. She refused to let him touch her again.

Never again!

Nobody would touch her without her consent!

She would die first.

He quickly twisted her body around and backhanded her, the strength of the blow sending her carolling to the floor. Her head hit the floor with a thud and pain exploded in her skull. The world became hazy around her. Her vision started darkening around the edges as she tried to crawl away from the man standing at her feet. Whimpers of pain escaped her throat as her body throbbed painfully from the fall and the multiple hits she had received since the beginning of their confrontation.

A vice like grip clamped around her ankle and pulled her back to her original position. Her body slid easily on the dusty rock floor and the man quickly sat down on her hips, pinning her to the floor with his larger form.

Rough hands reached for her haori, quickly tearing it open. The man ignored her as she weakly tried to push his hands away, tears streaming down her cheeks. He battled her hands away quickly, reaching down to her training pants and speaking quietly to her.

"Hush now Sango, it's okay. I still love you. I understand you are jealous of my attention to your brother, but you've changed and things are not the same. I still love you though." She made a chocked noise in the back of throat, the tears coming faster and faster now, wetting her hair.

Again.

He would hurt her again.

She was so weak.

It was all her fault.

Darkness continued tugging at her mind, beckoning her to slip away, to escape the pain she knew would come. She could feel less and less of her body, everything was fading. Sound, touches, her own breathing were becoming unknown to her senses with each passing moment. Despair lodged itself deep in her heart and she opened her arms to the darkness, wishing that, maybe, she would not wake up this time.

The weight was suddenly lifted off of her body, a muffled noise resembling a roar resonating in the cave.

She embraced the darkness.

.

.

.

Sango shuddered and stood up from her futon. Sleep evaded her, and once more, to be idle was to think.

It had been a long time since she had thought about that night.

Having to defend Miroku against the perceived threat the guards had represented had brought up memories she had buried. Her father had ordered her to never speak of this again. Each and every of her attempts at broaching the subject had been met with rough training sessions that left her too exhausted to think, much less talk.

There were things she still couldn't recall about that night though. They said that she had been awake, but despondent. She had thought that she had fallen unconscious. That would have explained why there were holes in her memories. The healer of the village had said she had repressed what had happened, for reasons only known to Sango herself. She could sadly fathom those reasons, even though she couldn't remember. A part of her didn't know if she wanted to remember. Nonetheless, she had been uncomfortable at not knowing. After much pleading on her part, Akio had told her what had happened next.

Villagers had come running to the cave, the slayers equipped with various weapons, ready to defend their village against any intruding demon. It seems her cries and the roars of the demon in the cave had awakened the villagers. The first arrivals had been more than surprised to find a huge cat demon growling at them, one paw stretched over a man's neck, claws digging slightly into his skin. The slayers had prepared their weapons, but her father had ordered them to stand down, recognizing the cat demon as Midoriko's companion in her transformed state.

According to what Akio had seen, Kilala had been protective and affectionate towards her. She had nuzzled her hair, licking away at the tickle of blood coming from her temple. The feline had slowly and carefully lain down on the floor next to her irresponsive body, curling her tail to cover her bare chest.

Her uncle had asked for the death of the animal, saying that it had attacked them both and was obviously rabid, but her father had not listened to his pleas. She never understood what had happened next. Her uncle had been banished from their village, never to be spoken of. Akio had been unable to tell her why her father had sent him away, only that he had. He had never been seen or heard of again. A part of her had always wondered if her father had known about her uncle's behaviour all along, and if he had ignored it for the sake of keeping a talented taijiya in the village. The thought had often elicited warring feelings inside of her. Her heart had rebelled at the thought of her father allowing her to be hurt, the idea seemingly impossible. Yet, a part of her had always doubted. Had he chosen to look the other way? Had her mother known? Would things have been different if they had? Would she be different if they had been there to protect her?

She would never know.

A small sad smile appeared on her lips. At the very least, one good thing had come out of that night. Kilala had become a faithful companion of hers starting that very day. She had found the small demon next to her pillow when she had woken up, huge yellow eyes watching her steadily. She had never known what had prompted the cat demon to save her, nor to stay with her from that moment on, but she was eternally grateful.

She could never have asked for a better friend.

Speaking of friends.

Sango sighed, looking towards Miroku, who still slept deeply. She angrily kicked the thin blanket away from her legs and went to the low table. Sitting down, she started munching on some leftover dry bread. The few days she had spent in this new cell had done wonders for her. She already felt stronger, and was now able to keep down more food. Some damage had been done to her body though. She felt slightly thinner, and knew the weight she had lost was muscles that she would have to work hard to regain.

All in all, her health was steadily improving. The same could not be said about her companion. She had noticed a black pustule on his collarbone. The sight had nearly rendered her hysterical once more. As long as she didn't see the proof of his progressing illness, she could put it in the back of her mind. Now though, reality was catching up fast, and her feeling of helplessness was growing steadily. Each new black spot was a stark reminder of the fact that he was running out of time. It was a thought that made her want to weep at times, and break something at others.

"Sango?" A voice called out softly. The young woman turned towards the cell door. Kagome stood close to the bars, looking into the room worriedly, squinting because of the dim lighting. The slayer's heart lurched in her chest, happiness at seeing her friend making the organ beat faster.

"Kagome." She stumbled towards the cell door in her hurry to reach her friend. The young priestess immediately reached through the bars to wrap her in an awkward but heartfelt hug. The hug lasted a few seconds before they separated, Kagome finally looking her friend over concernedly.

"Are you alright, Sango?" The young slayer nodded, and glanced back at the monk still sleeping. The miko followed her gaze, and her happiness dimmed. Worry slowly replaced her relief at seeing Sango in improved health.

"He's getting worse, isn't he?" She said gently. The slayer turned to stare at her friend, knowing the question was more of a statement. The young miko sighed, wrapping her arms around herself in comfort.

"We'll get you out soon, Sango," the girl from the future said with confidence. Yet, her stance betrayed her fear. The slayer ignored the nonverbal sign, and nodded slowly. To pretend to have hope was easier than voicing out loud what they both thought.

"Inu Yasha is on a warpath," the miko suddenly piped up. She gave a shaky if not slightly amused smile, one that Sango knew was more for her benefit than because her friend felt amused by what was going on. The priestess looked at the floor, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Sango knew that it indicated that Kagome was torn, unsure of whether or not she should say something else.

"What is going on, Kagome?" Sango leaned closer to the bars, searching her friend's eyes for answers. The other woman let her arms fall to her sides, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she seemed resolute, or maybe resigned.

"Something is going on in the castle, Sango. The daimio seems nervous, preoccupied with security," she trailed off, looking at the guards posted on either sides of the cell door for a second before turning her gaze to the slayer's again.

"Some dangerous looking individuals have started arriving at the castle." Once again, there was a pause. Sango's brows furrowed.

"Inu Yasha said they seemed to be mercenaries. He thinks the daimio is expecting an attack soon." The last part was said softly, the words carefully enunciated. Sango closed her eyes.

More complications.

What was she supposed to do like this, stuck in a cell and half starved? She could not help fight whatever the beings that kept attacking were. The daimio might have gotten mercenaries, ones probably trained in hunting and killing demons. However, chances were they wouldn't have faced such beings before either. She had the knowledge of multitude generations of Taijiya, and nowhere had she heard in her training of such things. She could only hope they came prepared, and that they would be able to turn the tide. If they were really lucky, the mercenaries would know about the illness that seemed to be connected to these beings. The thought made her heart beat faster. Could those men hold the key to healing the monk?

"Can you talk to one of them, Kagome? They might know about the illness..." The miko nodded thoughtfully.

"I'll try to talk to the man we saw in the hallway a few days ago," she said determinedly. The young priestess seemed suddenly full of energy, her spine straight and her brown eyes snapping with new fire. She made a grimace, prompting Sango to look at her curiously, but the young woman only shook her head. With one last hug she left, Sango staring at her retreating back thoughtfully.

"S'ngo?" Miroku called out softly, his voice scratchy. The slayer immediately hurried to the monk's bedside. She crouched next to the young man, looking him over concernedly. Noticing that he seemed to be having troubles swallowing, she helped him sit up and brought a cup of water to his lips. He swallowed thirstily but weakly before turning away and lying back down. Sango gazed at him silently, waiting for him to speak. Worry gnawed at her as he simply blinked at her lazily, obviously fighting to stay conscious.

"What is it, Houshi-sama? Do you need something?" She finally asked, incapable of keeping silent any longer. Sango clasped her hands in her lap in order not to play with them nervously. Warm purple eyes looked at her tenderly, even through the glaze of fever that gave them a wet shine.

"Don't worry, S'ngo. Kag'me'll find a solution," he slurred. He slowly brought up one hand to cover hers lightly. The sick man gave her fingers a weak squeeze, before he closed his eyes, obviously exhausted. Sango laced her fingers tightly with his, tears prickling at her eyes.

.

.

.

The young slayer sat up with a gasp, scrambling in the darkness. Before she knew it, she stood in a defensive stance in the middle of the room, her training too ingrained for her to produce any other response. She shook her head to clear the sudden panic that seemingly had come from nowhere. The slayer scanned the darkness, her breathing sharp in her ears.

"TAIJIYA!" Her eyes snapped to a young woman standing outside of the cell door, her form outlined faintly by a candle. Sango blinked in the darkness and stumbled closer to the iron door. To her surprise, she saw no guards outside of her cell. The hallway seemed to be deserted but for the maid glancing about nervously.

"Please, Taijiya, you must help us, please..." Sango shook her head to clear the cobwebs in her head. Her brain refused to make sense of what information she now had, still half asleep even though her training had taken over. She blinked the last vestiges of sleep away and centered her attention on the woman in front of her. As soon as she did so, she noticed the trail of tears marring the maid's cheeks. She saw how her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe and how she looked around fearfully, her lower lip trembling.

"Calm down, Chou. Tell me what's wrong?" The young maid shook her head quickly, and passed an arm through the bars of the cell in order to grasp Sango's yukata collar.

"Help us, Taijiya, please." Sango took hold of her hand and took it off of her collar, but did not let it go, clutching it tightly in reassurance. The young woman seemed half conscious in her despair, her sentences short and choppy, interlaced with gasps and sobs. She reached through the bars for the girl's chin and leaned closer.

"What's wrong, Chou?" The slayer searched the other girl's eyes, trying to anchor the maid long enough to get something helpful out of her.

"They are here, they're...they've breached the castle...they..." The girl started hyperventilating, eyes darting about like a frightened rabbit. Icy fingers closed around the slayer's heart. No matter the invading enemy, be it soldiers from another daimio or the strange zombie beings they had been fighting, their lives were in danger.

"Who, Chou?" She asked forcefully.

"The...the dead...Please, help him..." She choked on a sob, letting out gurgling noises. Sango hid a wince as the young maid's nails dug into the skin of her palm.

"I love him, please!" The look she gave the young slayer was full of remorse and despair. Sango breathed in sharply, her thoughts racing. Letting go of the girl's chin, she racked a hand through her hair, now feeling more helpless than ever.

"I can't leave the cell, Chou." She finally said lowly, her voice tinted with frustration.

The young maid fumbled with the folds of her apron and produced a set of keys, while Sango gaped at her. Chou tried to put a key inside of the look, her hand slipping a few times because of her shaking. Finally she slid the key in and turned until a light click resonated. The door opened with a high pitched noise. Sango's heartbeat increased as her freedom suddenly appeared within her grasp. Suddenly, she had a chance to fight. The young slayer looked over her shoulder at the man sleeping on his futon, torn. How could she leave him like this, alone?

She let out a deep breath, grinding her molars together.

Decision made, Sango reached for the bottom of her yukata and tore a single strip that she used to tie her hair back from her face. The shorter length also served the purpose of allowing her a wider range of movements. Sango straightened and squared her shoulders. She walked out of the cell and looked around quickly, trying to find any sign of something that could be used as a weapon. Still searching, she called out to Chou.

"Chou, get in the cell with Miroku. Keep an eye on him." The maid darted a look at the monk, biting her lower lip in indecision. It was obvious the girl had no desire to be in a cell with the diseased man, probably worried at the thought of being infected. Sango turned towards the young woman and hardened her look, conveying to her that she would not budge on this matter. The maid finally nodded and shuffled into the cell, hugging herself and snorting back the phlegm running out of her nose.

"The cell will keep you safe. Put the wall separator in front of it when I'm gone, and keep quiet. Do not come out until I, or another guard that you know, say so." Sango closed the door and waited until the young woman had done as instructed. Taking a last look around, she noticed no weapon, prompting her to sigh. For now, she would have to go bare-handed.

The slayer took a deep breath and crept down the hallway on light feet, looking around cautiously.

End chapter.

And so the fighting begins!

Thanks to Princess Amalthea, Death101- Fox Version and BlueWolfAngel2 for your reviews!


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

Also, please note that this chapter will contain graphic horror. Read at your own risk!

**Chapter 15**

Sango ran on light feet along the hallway. No one tried to stop her, even though there were guards about. Of course, this might have to do with the fact that each and every single one of them seemed too busy transporting weapons, hurt comrades or other supplies. They all ran from one place to another, their mind set on their task. Hence, no one had the time to notice her. Furthermore, with her simple yukata she could easily pass as a dishevelled maid that had been woken up abruptly or even gotten caught in the middle of a battle.

At the moment she was unimportant, and she used that fact to her advantage.

The slayer moved swiftly, dodging soldiers in the crowded corridor. She spied two men escorting a wounded man, one arm each wrapped around his waist as the limping soldier kept himself upright by circling his arms around their neck. Noticing the weapon hanging from the wounded soldier's waist, she ducked into the shadows of a wall. The young woman leaned back against the wall weakly, catching her breath, and waited until they passed her before falling in step behind them.

She watched them carefully as they walked briskly, noting the tempo of their steps, the way their bodies swayed and moved closer and further apart from one another. Seeing an opening, she made her move. Without preamble she grasped the sword of the wounded man and pulled it out of its scabbard with a thug. The injured soldier stumbled because of the pull at his belt and looked over his shoulder. She saw the soldier's face turn bright red, his eyes throwing daggers at her as he detailed her face in the near darkness. Sango's confusion at the overt signs of aggression cleared as she recognized Katsurou. He was the man that had punched her in the stomach for wounding his companion when they had come to take Miroku and she away to a new cell. It seemed that his grudge ran deep, but the slayer had no time to try to reconcile his wounded pride.

He opened his mouth, most probably preparing to cuss her out, but Sango didn't stick around to hear what he would say. Turning on her heel, she ran the other way, and towards the sounds of battle. Dimly, she heard insults being hurled towards her retreating back, followed by the sound of a scuffle, but she paid them little attention.

The slayer ran up a set of stairs, trying to ignore the cramping in her legs from the vigorous activity. Beads of sweat ran down the curve of her back, soaking into the cloth of her yukata as they reached the material belted at her waist.

She ran across one floor and took a second set of stairs. The coldness of the floor made the skin of her feet turn a purplish color and numbed her toes. Yet, the slayer concentrated on nothing but her breathing, the sounds of her inhalations and exhalations loud in her ears. However, each cycle of her respiration was carefully controlled, grounding her and ensuring that she conserve as much energy as possible for what was to come. Finally seeing a light atop of the stairs, she gave a burst of speed, taking the last few steps two at a time. She flew out of the doorway and skid to a halt, panting. The sudden move along with the slippery liquid covering the floor nearly sent her carolling.

A massacre greeted her, for a moment numbing her brain. The organ seemed incapable of making sense of what it saw and stalled at all the sensations assaulting her senses.

The air smelled of blood, urine and feces, mixed with decomposing bodies, prompting the slayer to cover her nose with the sleeve of her yukata. It smelled sweet and acrid, and soaked into her senses until it felt like she would never smell anything else again. Yet, the horrible smell didn't deter from what she saw.

Men lay dying on the floor as dead beings tore into their flesh with their fingers and mouth. Blood ran thickly down the zombies' arms and chin, colouring their skin a shiny rusty red colour in the dim lighting. Groans intermingled with the sound of bones breaking and screams of pain as they feasted restlessly and with single-minded purpose. They fell from their feet to their knees from the blood coating the floor, and scrambled for purchase against one another as they lunged at cadavers in masse, eager for a piece of meat for themselves. The blood of their victim mingled with their own, until it became hard to distinguish whether the villagers were in different states of decomposition or simply soaked from their feeding frenzy.

A harsh cry broke Sango's perusal and brought her attention to her left, where a young man was suddenly overthrown by four dead villagers. Two of them were relatively smaller, but just as aggressive as the bigger ones. As the soldier hit the wall and slid to the floor, they immediately lunged at him again, two zombies going for the soft skin of his belly, the others attacking his neck and legs. They made quick work of his armour and tore into his stomach hungrily. Dazed, she stood rooted to her spot as one zombie reached inside of the soldier's abdomen and pulled out a strand of intestines. He bit into the organ hungrily, and pulled harshly to get more into his mouth. Brown lumps fell on the floor, mixing with blood as he continued to pull and tear eagerly.

The scene was more than troubling. On closer inspection, it was made even worse by the fact that the villager eating the intestines was a child of maybe seven of age, one who seemed startlingly alive, his body not as damaged as others. Sango turned to the side and started violently vomiting, until the little bread she had ingested a few hours prior was on the floor in a puddle of bile. She blinked at the mess as she continued retching, her stomach too empty to produce anything else.

She had seen horrors in her life, the likes of which many could not fathom. She had seen many decimated villages, be it by the plague, human wars, or demons. She had seen humans being eaten by demons, but never had she seen a human eat another human. There was something viscerally wrong with the picture it made. An instinctive human part of her recoiled with disgust and fear at what it represented, warning her that this went against the laws of nature.

A cold sense of detachment settled over her as she buried her emotions deep inside of herself, behind a strong dam made of imaginary stones. Her breathing deepened.

With a shaky hand, she wiped the back of her mouth, and walked forward. The soldier still screamed with fear and pain, but his voice now sounded raw, breaking from exhaustion and shock. She pushed back the emotions it elicited, digging deeper within herself to lock them away until she had the time to deal with them. From the distance, she saw the tears on the man's cheeks as he struggled weakly, noticed the extents of his wounds, and knew that only one thing could be done.

Sango stalked forward, gliding like a ghost to conceal her approach, and stopped behind the zombie about to tear into the ravaged man's face and neck.

She blinked.

The blade came down in an arc.

The half rotten head rolled to the floor near her feet.

She noticed the zombie she had killed was a young girl, probably around ten of age, and filled away the information to examine later, along with all of the pain it brought.

The man looked up at her pleadingly with pain glazed eyes. He still protested his assault, but his movements were sluggish and half-heartened.

She blinked, and brought her katana down in an arc.

The soldier stopped struggling.

She blinked again quickly, fighting the tears coming to the surface, pushing against the walls of her training, the cold place she had learned to build within herself to survive as she did what she had been taught.

Killing was never easy, nor was it fun, but it was necessary.

Sometimes, it was mercy.

With a few slashes of her katana she made work quickly of the three zombies left gnawing on the cadaver, and closed her walls even more tightly around her heart as she slew a boy that had had brown eyes and hair.

Finally, she turned to peruse the rest of the room.

Where no zombies feasted or walked, cadavers were strewn along the floor, the bodies half eaten. A few of the soldiers still standing were staring around in shock, some clutching wounds, others apparently unhurt. A few had soiled themselves. They all walked aimlessly, seemingly just as dead as the ones attacking them. The slayer spied another man retching in a corner as he gazed at one of his companions' dead body being torn into pieces. Blood was splattered over his hands, most probably from trying unsuccessfully to take the body away from the monsters feasting on it.

Sango noticed another zombie making her way behind the man, her only left eye centered hungrily on the stunned soldier's exposed neck. Dashing forward she swung her katana in an arc, beheading the sick villager neatly. Her arms ached from the multiple beheadings, but she shook off the pain, moving to stand next to the soldier. The slayer carefully put her back towards the wall and looked around calmly, rationally assessing the situation.

The men left in the room were unfit to fight. They needed to be brought to the infirmary to recoup, and if needed, be treated. Yet, she had no time to linger. She turned her gaze towards the soldier still staring at his friend being torn apart.

"Soldier!" She snapped loudly, knowing that she had no choice but to shock the young man into listening to her. As she expected, he turned towards her, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before blinking at her, his eyes still glazed. Sango schooled her facial expression as she noticed he had just smeared his companion's blood across his face.

"Listen to me, soldier!" The man's attention zeroed on her.

"I will cover your retreat. Gather the soldiers wandering about. They are in battle shock. Take them with you to the infirmary. They cannot stay here or they will be massacred." Sango stared at him expectantly, but he only blinked.

"Soldier! What are your orders!" She barked out, sensing that the young man needed to fall back on the training that had been ingrained in him in order to survive. The young man straightened suddenly.

"Ta-Take the survivor to the infirmary," he said shakily. Sango nodded sharply and gestured towards the rest of the room. Leaving him behind, she took a step away from the wall and tightened her hands around the handle of her katana. All noises disappeared as she concentrated on her breathing, grounding herself for her next move. Spying a zombie making a beeline for a shell shocked soldier, she sprung. Blood splashed across her chest as she decapitated the woman cleanly. The body, however, kept moving forward. Jerking her katana up and sideway, she slashed at the zombie diagonally, until the torso fell on the ground, followed by the woman's lower body. Sango pushed at the hip with her foot to pull out her katana which had become stuck into the bone.

She stepped over the body and kicked a dead villager in the chest as he abandoned his meal to approach her, eager for a fresher meal. She spun on her heel, completing a full circle, and used her momentum to cut clear across the man's spine, sectioning him into two parts. The move was barely done that she dashed towards a group of zombies feasting and attacked.

She wove and danced through the bodies, never stopping, always slashing. Blood soon coloured her yukata a dark red, but she ignored the sticky clothe as it stuck to her skin. The drenched material soon clung to her form, hindering her movements. She tasted salt on her lips, warm and sticky, prompting her to spit out her now tainted saliva. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she only blinked and continued. Her vision became that of blood and dead bodies.

A few soldiers seemingly woke up as she beheaded and dismembered dead men and women one after another. They started helping her to the best of their abilities, trying to slay the zombies the same way she did, their attempts however clumsy. Yet, they seemed now filled with a new hope for survival, and fought bravely until, at last, only they stood in the room, victorious, and yet having lost more than they could ever hope to regain.

Sango panted and pushed back her bangs with a shaky hand. The short tresses stayed matted to her skull from the blood she spread along her hair. She lowered her katana as she looked at the massacred zombies. Only dead bodies littered the floor now. A few still twitched, but none moved to attack. The soldier she had cornered had followed her orders, and gathered the shocked soldiers and taken them away. The few remaining soldiers that had helped her crowded around her, their faces tainted with horror, awe, fear, and the slightest sliver of hope.

The slayer looked them over slowly, saw their battered souls, and how young they were, and knew they would not win this war. Yet, even in the face of such odds, they could only fight, and thus, she took a deep breath, knowing that they awaited her next instructions, no matter that they didn't know her, no matter that she was a woman. She had killed many and saved their lives, and she stood with the confidence of a fighter. For that, they respected her and would follow her orders.

"Barricade the door. Let only through other soldiers. Keep silent otherwise. The dead might bypass this area if they do not know there are others here. Do not let them get past you. They cannot go any deeper in the castle," she said lowly, staring at each man in the eyes one after another. The gazed at her solemnly, nodding at each of her orders.

Sango determinedly moved forward and left through the double doors, hoping that the young men she had left behind would survive. Yet, she couldn't afford to stay with them to ensure their safety. She had to reach the real battlefield. What she had encountered was merely a small band of dead villagers that had somehow infiltrated the castle in search of humans to feed on. The fact that they were in so deeply only hinted to the fact that there were many more waiting for her as she made her way towards the outside of the castle, where Inu Yasha and Kagome probably were fighting to drive the hordes back.

The slayer turned a corner sharply and ran through another hallway. She noticed some zombies coming her way, and moved her katana up until it was perpendicular to her body. With a war cry she slashed at the first dead being, the body too rotten for her to be able to tell its gender. A second quickly followed, prompting her to crouch low and strike at its legs, making it fall on its face. Not stopping to bother killing it, she continued running and with a jump, beheaded another man. The body continued moving forwards but now stumbled around blindly, rendering it much less likely to kill another soldier.

Another zombie appeared in her way, but she did not stop, even though her body protested, her muscles aching. Her vision darkened around the edges, but she ignored it valiantly. She had to keep fighting, no matter her body's exhaustion, but was aware of the fact that she was running on fumes. Only adrenaline kept her going, and soon, this fact would make her do costly mistakes. She had been lucky so far to not have been hurt, her enemies too weak or preoccupied with gorging on cadavers to present a real challenge, but she might not keep being so lucky.

Sango let out a scream of pain as a sudden impact with something hard jarred her whole body, making her bite down on her tongue. She opened her eyes to realise that she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. The stunned slayer groped at the floor weakly with her left hand and encountered small and big chunks of wood and rock that pierced into her skin. Pain irradiated through her whole body. As she gasped in a breath, she choked on a lungful of dust and started coughing. Tears prickled at her eyes as she lay silent, mind blank.

Finally gathering enough strength, the young woman shuffled back and leaned back against the wall.

Ears ringing, she looked around dazedly. The room seemingly twisted and turned around her, feeding her nausea. Something warm dripped down her cheek, prompting her to reach up and wipe at the liquid. She stared at her now red fingers blankly. Somewhere inside a tiny voice whispered that she was bleeding, that she must have hit her head.

Bringing her left hand up to her forehead, she felt more blood trickling down her temple, soaking into her hair. Her fingers followed the warm trail, and she winced as she touched what seemed to be a nasty cut. A dull throbbing pain becoming sharper and sharper in her right shoulder.

She ignored the feeling.

Dust billowed into the hallway from what she now recognized had been an explosion. The wall in front of Sango had been blown off, chunks and debris thrown everywhere in her vicinity. Judging by the closeness of the hole, the slayer had been lucky not to be caught in the blast. If it hadn't been for her encounters with zombies in the hallway slowing her down slightly, she would have been hit fully on. Her train of thoughts brought her back to the most pressing threat.

Sitting quietly, and closing her eyes against the room spinning around her, she listened closely. Nothing.

Silence now permeated the hallway. The sound was both scary and reassuring. It meant that no zombies would come for her as she took stock of her injuries, but it also meant that no soldier in the vicinity had survived. Yet she knew she couldn't completely trust her senses, as her ears still rang from the noise of the explosion.

Moving her legs, she felt that nothing seemed broken. Likewise, her abdomen and chest seemed fine, even though it would become a giant bruise the following day. Yet as she tried to rotate her right shoulder, she let out a loud cry of pain. Saliva dripped down her chin as she gritted her teeth against the pain and centered her gaze on where the ache radiated from. Taking a big gulp of air in, she prodded at the bone of her arm, from her elbow up towards her shoulder. The young woman let out a shaky breath as she noted that she had dislocated her shoulder when she had hit the wall. Relief flooded her at the thought of not having broken a bone, but apprehension quickly followed as she thought of the pain she would endure to reset her shoulder.

Sango let her head fall back against the wall weakly as she contemplated what she knew she would have to do in order to keep fighting.

Keeping her back against the wall, she grasped at her wounded arm and moved it to a ninety degree position, keeping her upper arm pressed against her side, bending her elbow and pointing her hand away from her body in a straight line. Her fingers felt numb as she formed a fist. Gnashing her molars together, the slayer tightened her fingers on her wounded arm, and slowly rotated it towards her bellybutton, and then away from her body, keeping the upper part tightly against her side as she did so. A long keening cry escaped her lips as she felt the joint slide into its proper place. The pain that washed over her nearly stole her breath.

She slumped, tears running down her cheeks. Her shoulder throbbed angrily as she moved it gently, trying to test her range of motions. The joint felt tender, as did her muscles and tendons. There seemed to be no tearing though, making it likely that she would heal quickly enough, though she knew it would take some time. She would have to be careful in how she used Hiraikotsu, as well as wielded her katana, as any bad movement would result in re-dislocating her shoulder. The thought nearly made her cry in frustration, her ability to fight now reduced even more than before.

A soft moan sounded out from the room where the explosion had taken place, startling her out of her thoughts. The sound was so muffled that for one second she thought she had imagined it.

A groan sounded next, followed by coughing. The sound seemed human, but the Taijiya still looked around the debris for her katana. Finding nothing, she grasped a rock and stood up carefully, leaning against the wall. She waited until her head cleared and started shuffling towards the busted wall.

Leaning in cautiously to peek inside, a room of bodies was revealed to her, or rather body parts. Sango blinked, trying to make sense of what she saw, but was unsure on her to interpret the mess of blood, flesh and bones. A gasped in breath made her gag as the smell of burnt flesh touched her nostrils.

Swallowing with difficulty, she made abstraction of smell and sight, and listened carefully for any more noises. Another groan sounded out, followed by a muffled curse. Scanning the room, she saw a pile of body parts move a few meters away. They seemingly bobbed up and down, as if someone was pushing up at them, trying to dislodge them.

The young woman gripped her rock tighter and made her way carefully towards the pile. The floor was slippery and clustered, making it hard for her to move around. She flailed her good arm as her feet nearly went out from under her, slick from the blood coating the ground. Finally, she reached the pile just as an arm moved through and started pushing and pulling at various body parts. Sango dropped to her knees and put her rock in her lap to free her good arm. She pushed away body parts, using her whole body as leverage in order not to strain her bad shoulder. Her progress was slow, both from the weight of the dead bodies and her physical limitations. Her tenacity was rewarded as the arm was freed.

Sango shrieked as the hand grasped at her knee through her yukata, digging into her skin. Acting on instinct she grabbed the arm and tossed it away with all her strength. The move sent her sprawling on her back. The slayer stared at the ceiling, heart beating loudly in her chest from fright. She blinked and shuddered. The dead being's hand had felt cold against her skin even through her yukata, and the grip had been strong, very strong. The surprise of it had only enhanced the sensations. Fighting off another shudder, she straightened slowly.

"Are you okay?" She called out softly, starting to dig around, but unsure of where exactly or what for that matter, she should look for.

"..ant...brea..." The muffled sound helped to direct her attention, and also reassured her of the fact she was looking for another human, and not another dead villager that would try to kill her as soon as she freed it.

Finally, following the noise, she spotted a body that bobbed up and down as if it breathed. Sango climbed over other dead bodies and made her way closer. Without preamble, she put her good shoulder against the dead torso's side and pushed with her feet. The body rolled to the side, and a face appeared. The man gasped in a breath of air, before pushing away the remaining body parts on his hips to sit up. He scrubbed his hand along his bloody face, wiping away the freshly sprayed red liquid, but also setting the rusty red stain deeper into his skin. The man freed his legs and started taking stock of his weapons. Each move was made with cold mindless efficiency.

Sango immediately recognized him as one of the mercenaries Kagome had been talking about. He was too rugged to be a young soldier for the daimio, and wore functional black leather clothing with a lot of pouches and holders for weapons. The scars on his face and arms indicated that he had experience, as did his behaviour as he recouped in front of her. The fact that he ignored her for so long also indicated that he felt that he could take her if she tried to harm him.

The man finally looked up at her, seemingly satisfied with his perusal. He squinted at her, puzzled, his eyes roving over her features and hair. Sango watching him curiously, head tilted to the side. His brows furrowed.

"Sango?" The young woman looked back at him in confusion. She couldn't recall having seen this young man before, especially not a mercenary. She detailed his face and noted the bump on his nose, indicating an old fracture. She saw the scar travelling from one eyebrow to the opposite side of his chin, his short cropped hair and brown eyes, so serious and cold.

Hadn't they been warm and shy before? The thought startled her. Recognition sparked into her mind.

"Yuuto?" She breathed out. The man looked at her with a certain degree of awe.

"They told us you died! You were buried with your brother; we saw the grave!" He exclaimed, looking at her in wonder. Quickly though, surprise turned into suspicion and Sango found herself with a blade at her neck before she could utter a word. She leaned back slightly, trying to slowly edge away, but he followed.

"Who are you?" He grounded out harshly. Sango gasped in a breath, heart beating quickly in her chest as she struggled to find a way to convince him of her identity.

"Ask me something only I would know," she breathed out. The man pressed his blade harder against her neck, drawing a thin line of blood. He did not move back, but kept the pressure of his blade steady against her jugular. The slayer's mind started racing as he did not start asking her questions, but instead became increasingly menacing

"You cut holes in my training uniform the second day I started training with you. I saw you, but chose not to say anything," she finally said in a rush. Surprise flashed across his face, following by a tinge of embarrassment, which quickly passed. Wonder and curiosity quickly replaced it. Slowly, he removed his katana from her neck.

Yuuto sheathed the blade carefully, and reached out to touch her chin, slowly, hesitantly. Sango watched him cautiously, unsure of his intentions, but he let his hand drop before he made contact.

"I can't believe you're alive," he whispered softly, staring hard at her. Sango nodded hesitantly in answer, conveying the same thing back to him. Hadn't all of her village been exterminated? Weren't they all gone? How could this be? Question after question appeared in her mind, but she held back, knowing that the situation was too dire for her to get the answers she sought. Later, she promised herself, later she would ask about the survivors. Twinges of excitement quickly rushed through her body at the thought. How many more had survived? How come she hadn't heard of them when it had been so many years?

"What is going on, Yuuto?" She asked instead. Letting go of the rock she kept in her lap, the young slayer stood up, followed by her companion. As he straightened, she noticed that he winced, favouring his left leg. Yet, his features quickly became placid once more.

"We were called by the daimio to come fight those dead villagers. I came first to assess what we would need for the job. The rest of my group hasn't had the time to make it here yet. Those zombies have invaded the castle and they're going for the daimio and his son." Sango breathed in sharply.

"Why?" Yuuto looked at her for a few moments, seemingly gauging her trustworthiness. Finally, he breathed out deeply and answered her question.

"He has a Shikon shard." Sango gasped in a breath, her mind suddenly in turmoil. Yet, the answer made sense. What else could prompt such supernatural attacks, attacks that came with increasing violence and single-minded direction?

"How come a priestess can't sense it?" She asked quickly, trying to explain to herself that Kagome hadn't been able to tell that the very castle they had been staying in contained one of the precious shards they were looking for.

"It's warded by powerful miko magic, the kind that takes a few mikos working full time," Yuuto answered quickly. He bent over to check on his wound quickly as he trailed off. Sango shook her head, trying to ward off the headache she knew was coming. The daimio had to have employed some of the best mikos in the country for them to be able to not only ward the shikon, but also themselves at the same time. Yuuto walked past her, prompting Sango to follow closely.

"And the one coming after it?" She asked, needing to know what they stood against.

"A demon with shards of his own." His answer was brisk as he tried to hurry out of the room, Sango not far behind. Immediately her mind flashed to the day they had ran into a fight to defend the soldiers against the zombies, and how Kagome had felt shards minutes before in the same direction. Now it became obvious the miko had probably felt the ones the demon had embedded into his body. She grasped Yuuto's shoulder as he stumbled, his injured leg rendering it harder for him to move through the body parts and blood covering the floor.

"He's been around for a while then. Kagome felt him when we were coming towards the castle about a week ago," she remarked absentmindedly. Yuuto nodded.

"He's been gunning for the daimio's shard for a while now, and has been amassing an army of those things to help things along." Finally they reached the hallway, which was thankfully deserted. Trying to walk forward, he stumbled again and swore. Sango watched on worriedly, knowing very well the man had at least a sprained ankle and would be slow for a while because of it. Like her, his injuries would make him a less able fighter.

Yet, she also knew that the demon going for the Takeda was probably making his way inside as they spoke.

"Give me a weapon, Yuuto," she asked. The man nodded, not even fighting her on this point. He handed her the katana he had strapped against his back and took out the other one at his hip for himself. Without a second thought, they fell back on the training they had undertaken together.

"Go, Sango. I'll follow and cover your back. We can't let that thing get the shard. You haven't seen what it can do." Sango looked over her shoulder at the man limping slowly closer. She saw the shadows in his eyes, and knew that more people than she thought had suffered and died from this plague.

The slayer nodded and took off at a run.

End chapter.

In light of this recent chapter, I've changed the rating of my story to M. It has taken on a darker turn than I had planned, with the goriness and what not.

Alright, the action ain't over, folks! Stay tuned to see what happens with the Takedas, the shard, and everyone involved!

Big thanks to mylovemiroku, Otaku-Sig, Death101-Fox Version and kaerfemina for their reviews. It's always good to hear what people think of my ideas and writing style, and it always makes my day!


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 16**

Sango panted with exertion as her pace took its toll on her. The katana she held felt heavy within her grasp, and her right shoulder throbbed angrily, adrenaline not buffering the pain of the injury anymore. She gritted her teeth, and kept moving. There was no other choice.

As she ran, it seemed that the castle walls formed a long labyrinth, one that she could not find the exit to. She bypassed a few soldiers running themselves, or wandering about dazedly on her way, but did not stop as she knew there would be no imminent danger awaiting them.

The daimio and his son, though, were in danger. There was a high chance the demon would search for them in order to extirpate the location of the shard from them. She couldn't let them be killed, especially knowing the political ramifications this would have. The provinces the family controlled would become the theatres of multiple wars as the other daimios, or members of the Takeda royal family for that matter, fought over who would inherit them.

Moreover, she could not let the demon gain another shard, not when it was already so powerful. She could only imagine how much more horrifying its power would become, and how many more would become the demon's victims should it take on more shards. And then, when he had this shard, he wouldn't stop there; he would search for the next one, and then the next and so on.

Sango took a turn towards the daimio's private chambers, trying to recall the quickest way there from her time in the castle so long ago. Darkness ate at the edges of her vision. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Every minute that passed robbed her of precious energy and strength. Every minute that passed also increased the pain in her body, and made her injuries all the more debilitating.

Finally, she saw the huge doors of the daimio's personal quarters looming in the distance. She skid to a halt in front of the doors, and their guards.

Pieces of the butchered sick villagers formed a wall a few feet high in front of the doors. A dozen of guards armed to the teeth stood poised in front of the wall of flesh, ready to strike her down if she made a move. Yet, even as they took her in, and thus saw that she was alive, they did not relax their stance.

She lowered her blade to show that she wasn't a threat.

"Is the daimio alright?" She panted out.

They stared at her silently, the helmet they wore hiding everything but their eyes. Yet, in the dim lighting, she could not discern what they conveyed. Their body language though was menacing.

Sango shuffled her feet, fighting against her impatience and trying to think of what she should say next. She licked her lips and searched the darkness at each side of the hallway, ready to defend or attack, as the case may be.

"Some zombies have invaded the castle. They have made their way into lower levels, but were stopped before they got in too deep. Keep your guard up though," she added at the end. She felt for some reason compelled to say it, but knew full well that the warning was unnecessary.

These soldiers were not the wet-behind the ears men she had helped some time ago, nor like the young men she had assisted in the first zombie attack. They were the daimio's personal guard, each man handpicked for his bravery, experience and loyalty. They were the best fighters the daimio had.

Their sole purpose was to keep the royal family safe at all time, as attempts on their lives were common occurrence. The fact that they guarded the doors told her that either the daimio, or his son, or maybe even both, were close by.

Yet, even as the thought crossed her mind, something nagged at her. She realised now that something had been nagging at her since she first saw the men. There was something wrong with the picture they presented. Even as they wore the uniform of the daimio's special guard, their body language was slightly wrong. They postured well enough, but they were doing some mistakes. Their stance was too open for attack, and not sure enough to go on the offensive. Some of their weapons shook slightly, and their grip on them was white knuckled. They seemed high strung and unsure as they faced her.

Suspicions arose in her mind.

She took a step forward.

One of the men took a step back.

"You're not the daimio's personal guard, are you?" She asked. The men looked at each other, a sure display of insecurity, and a sign of the absence of a hierarchy amongst them. Her suspicions cemented, and a new sense of urgency fell upon her. She needed to know where the daimio and his son were.

"I am Taijiya, and I came to help." There was a slight movement, a kind of shuffle as she spoke, one that told her they were considering her and her words.

"Chou sent me," she continued, trying to meet the men's eyes to convey her sincerity, and hoping that the name of a fellow member of the castle would sway them.

One soldier took a hesitant step forward.

"Chou?" He asked uncertainly. The voice seemed eerily familiar, and Sango wracked her brain for the name of the young man who was Chou's lover. The young soldier had been filled with hero worship towards the Taijiya when they had met for the first time. He had also been the one that had insisted Chou apologize for denunciating Sango to the Takedas.

"Arata?" She tried tentatively. The soldier nodded. The slayer took another slow step closer, ignoring the increasingly aggressive and nervous aura the other soldiers emitted. She knew it to be from fear and uncertainty, and as such, did not let her own apprehension show.

"I know you're a decoy. Where are the real guards and the royal family?" She asked gently, her seemingly confident tone hiding her edginess and worry. The young man looked at his fellow soldiers for a second before turning to her.

"They went into hiding," he finally admitted. Sango breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the hidden vault where the royal family took refuge would be hard to access, well hidden and well protected by the daimio's personal guards. No one, short of the main members of the family and their personal guards, knew where the vault was. Rumours also circulated that more than one vault existed, making it even less likely they would be found.

Sango quickly mulled over her options.

The daimio and his son safe, she could only concentrate on the shard. Her only hope was to find its location, and beat the demon to it. Yet, the location of the shard remained a mystery.

Most members of the daimio's household would be unaware of the presence of the shard. As such, it was even more likely they wouldn't know where the daimio had hidden it. The shards had the tendency to render both humans and demons greedy and deceitful in their quest to possess the shikon no tama's power, something the daimio would know. As such, only a carefully chosen few would know where he hid the shard.

A thought nagged at her mind, possible courses multiplying as she considered the current variables.

"Where is Hojo-sama?" The young soldier shook his head. Sango's heart quickened.

"They didn't take her with them?" Even as she asked the question, the young slayer knew the answer. The royal family would not necessarily put themselves in danger for the girl's safety, not when their own survival would be compromised. A more cynical person might even say they could use the opportunity to get rid of the girl, but Sango doubted it was the case in this instance. Whichever it was though, she needed to find the young heiress.

She turned towards the young soldiers in front of her. Their fear now seemed evident to her. She sighed, knowing that there was no easy answer.

"I will try to find her, then find the demon. Keep your guard up." She gave them an authoritative look as she spoke sharply. Immediately the men straightened, and fell into formation. A part of her ached with the thought that these men would be slaughtered should the demon make its way to them, but she hardened her heart, knowing she couldn't stay to help them. What she could do though, is find the demon and destroy it before it had the time to hurt more people.

Sango bit her lip, and took off at a run for the chambers that she, herself, as a child, had inhabited, and that were now Hojo-sama's chambers.

As close to the royal family and as cunning as she was, there was a chance the girl knew where the shard was, something that she was sure the demon would also think of. Thus, no matter whether the girl knew the location of the shard or not, she would be in danger. Would she not provide the answers the demon sought, the girl was as good as dead. If she did provide the location of the shard, she would still be in danger of being killed. A demon willing to kill so many people would have no qualms at murdering one girl. The thought sent a pang through Sango's heart. Even as she held no particular liking towards the girl, the young heiress was still a child, one that was doing her best to survive in the jungle that royalty presented.

Her mind raced with plans, possible escapes routes and good and bad outcomes as the walls became all too familiar as she approached her destination. She saw no one as she came closer to the door leading to her old room, but still moved cautiously. The hall was jarringly quiet, her footsteps seemingly loud in the silence. She tip toed to the door of her old room, katana at the ready.

"Hojo-sama?" She breathed out, cheek against the door. Her eyes darted about as she kept an eye open for the enemy.

"Hojo-sama, it is Sango, the taijiya. Are you unharmed?" She whispered when she received no answer. A door behind Sango opened a crack. She looked over her shoulder curiously, knowing that the room was a small staff room, meant for the hand servant of the young lady in training.

Sango turned and, with one last look at the deserted hallway, slipped through the partially opened door. She kept her guard up as she entered the room and immediately found the edge of a katana pressed to the slender column of her throat. The slayer let out a breath in a quiet whoosh as she stared into the eyes of Hojo Yuuka's top bodyguard. The man did not flinch even as a thin red line appeared on Sango's skin when she swallowed, the sword's sharp blade cutting into her flesh like it would through butter. She barely felt the cut though, the pain in her shoulder overshadowing the pain of the incision.

"Let her go, Shinobu," a soft, if not slightly scratchy voice, called out. Sango brought a hand up to wipe at the blood at her neck, keeping her eyes on the guard. He turned his body sideways and nodded towards another doorway, indicating for her to go first. The slayer moved towards the other room, fighting not to bring her weapon up as she gave her back to a man that had threatened her moments before.

A ring of guards surrounded the young heiress as she sat on a cushion, looking for all intent and purpose like a cold little doll swapped in layers of expensive kimonos. The slayer bowed before the young girl before taking a non threatening stance.

As she glanced at the girl, she saw through the mask of cold placidity she presented. Her eyes were red rimmed, her cheeks a little flushed, and slight tremors moved the folds of her kimono nearly imperceptibly. Sango was once more reminded that the girl was only that, a girl. She was still a child, used to the dangers of nobility, jaded from them, but still naive and untouched on so many levels.

"I am glad to see you are well Hojo-sama," the slayer breathed out. The girl nodded, giving a small hiccup. Sango ignored it, as she knew it to be a repressed sob, and a weakness that the girl would be embarrassed about.

"My fiancé has chosen not to protect me," she suddenly intoned, a slim shoulder rising and falling slowly, carelessly. Rikuto abandoning his fiancé so carelessly made her angry for a moment. She knew the man cared little for his conquests, not when it came to his own safety in comparison with that of others, but Hojo-sama was a young girl, one at his charge and that he should have taken with him knowing very well she would be a target. Yet, a small piece of her heart whispered that her ex-fiance was not a good man, no matter how much she tried to excuse his behaviour.

"Perhaps..." Sango started, but was quickly cut off.

"For now, we are safer here. The decoy the Takedas left behind may divert the demon's attention from me." The girl's voice was quiet, meant to not betray their position, but very firm, indicating she would not budge, literally.

Sango nodded, even though part of her wanted to speak up, to tell the girl to run and hide better. A look at the face of her bodyguard, and all of the guards in the room for that matter, seemed to indicate that not everyone agreed with the girl's position on this matter. Yet, the heiress' plan wasn't bad either. She was as close as possible to where she should be without being there per se. It was possible the demon would overlook the room, deeming it unimportant and unlikely to be a hiding spot, too close to danger as it was. And yet...

The slayer's need to kill the demon became all the more urgent, as she realised the girl's plan could backfire quickly, and with deadly results.

"Hojo-sama," Sango began haltingly, "do you know where Rikuto-sama has hidden the Shikon no Tama shard?" The slayer noticed the young girl's eyes widen a fraction, something that she wouldn't have allowed if she had not been so emotional no doubt. However, Sango was grateful for the slip in the girl's control, as it gave her a sign that the heiress knew what she was talking about. Her heart beat quickened, and she tensed. The girl considered her seriously, tilting her head to the side.

"And what need have you of this information, tai-ji-ya?" The words were enunciated slowly and carefully, full of weight and meaning. Sango licked her lips, unsure of the meaning behind the girl's tone, but did not hesitate further.

"We believe this plague has been caused by a demon in search of a shard." The girl paused, staring at her.

"Oh?" Sango held her breath and brought her eyes up to bore into those of the young heiress. The corners of her mouth tightened at the breach of etiquette, but the girl said nothing, staring back in return. A part of Sango rebelled at the affront she presented to royalty, her old lessons too ingrained to ever leave her completely. Yet, she needed the girl to trust her with this. The slayer tried to let all of her sincerity shine through as she gazed at the younger girl.

To know where the shard was hidden would be an advantage in her fight to slay the demon. Otherwise, she would have to wander about to find him. If the girl knew where it was, she needed her to say so.

"Indeed," the heiress finally relented. She nodded towards a quiet and slim young man standing in a corner. He seemed young, barely thirteen of age, with features that were average. He was a boy that would blend in easily, and that would be just as easily forgotten.

A spy, most probably.

"I have been informed by my...by Takumi, that the shard is kept at the uppermost level of the castle, in a hidden attic." Sango wracked her brain for the quickest way to reach the top floor of the castle, as well as any trap doors she might have glimpsed in the past.

"Is it guarded?" The young girl looked at the boy that had acted as a spy.

"It is guarded by mikos, fairly powerful ones, old and young," he answered quietly and shyly, avoiding looking at Sango. She nodded, and prepared to leave, now armed with the knowledge she had sought.

"Be careful, please, Hojo-sama," the slayer whispered, and bowed. Already planning the quickest route to her new destination, she turned to leave. The heiress called out to her quietly, making her stop in her tracks. She turned her body partially, keeping her head bowed in deference to the heiress as she listened.

"Remember taijiya, that in this fight, the Takedas will be of no help. They are blind to the curse their greed is bringing down on us all."

Sango left the room, and started running once more.

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"INCOMING!" Kagome called out, sending out another arrow filled with purifying energy. It left in its wake an empty corridor with charred bodies on the floor. Yet, within seconds, more dead villagers filled the empty space, lumbering closer and walking over their dead comrades clumsily.

Her fingers slipped on the string as she tried to notch another arrow. Her fingers bled from the strain of using her archery for so long, and black spots clouded her vision as she took aim.

She was running out.

She had been using her powers left and right for a while now, and the well filled with energy that she had learnt to feel within herself was growing emptier with each new arrow.

Her arms shook as she fought against her own body exhaustion and dwindling spiritual energy to aim at a group of zombies approaching dangerously close to the castle and the young soldiers fighting there.

"Kongousouha!" Shards of ice impaled villagers on the other side of the battlefield, making them fall down and groan as they continued trying to crawl forwards. They got trampled by their fellow sick villagers as they promptly began to walk over their fallen comrades.

Kagome wiped the sweat off of her brows with the back of her hand and reached clumsily for an arrow at her back. The white feather became stained with red as she notched the arrow into the string, and pulled it back. Sudden cries of pain reached her ears, and she turned around in alarm. A wave of zombies tore into a line of soldiers, bringing chunks of meat to their mouth hungrily.

With a rage filled cry, she sent her arrow flying. The blue blaze enveloped both the soldiers and their attackers. When the light died down, only the soldiers were left, but too late, as they lay dying on the ground, their wounds too important for them to survive but a few minutes longer. A second row of dead villagers fell onto them and started feasting. Blood flew in wide arcs as they tore off members and threw them left and right in their haste.

They became bathed in blood.

The miko turned away from the horrific scene.

Sharp pain made her reel back as a child of barely three bit into her thigh harshly, digging his nails into her bare skin for a better hold. She used her bow and hit the dead boy on the head, making him fly back. Blood immediately started running down from the scratches his nails left in their wake, along with the imprint of his teeth into her skin. She gritted her teeth, and notched another arrow.

The diversion caused by the child cost her the few seconds she needed and she found herself surrounded by zombies closing in on her, attracted by the scent of her blood. Her heart seemingly stopped beating as fear chocked all of her senses, leaving only blind panic behind. She shrieked as they closed their cold fingers on her arms and hair and started pulling. The arrow she had notched slipped from her grasp and fell on the ground, forgotten. A dead villager tugged on her quiver to pull her towards him and she twisted her body to free herself from the leather band crossing her chest. The quiver was pulled from her body and tossed away, leaving her arrowless.

"KAGOME!" She heard dimly, as the blood rushed thickly through her ears. She started whipping at them with her bow, and kicking with all of her strength, all the while trying to summon her purifying energy, which flickered uselessly because of her panic. Her breath escaped her mouth with a 'whoosh' as she found herself suddenly on her back, staring at the starry skies.

Immediately hands were on her, tearing at her uniform and body as she tried to ward them off with her bow and feet, screaming her fear and anger all the while. Tears ran down her face, along with snot as she fought harder than she had ever fought before, shrieking, kicking and clawing.

Her bow was snatched out of her hands and sent flying away.

She twisted, turned, pushed and punched with all of her strength. Trails of fire became etched into her skin as it was split open by her incessant struggles and the attacks she suffered. Cuts marred her skin, burning like fire and bleeding lazily. Wet mouths started touching her flesh, tongues licking at her cuts hungrily. A chocked sob escaped her as she realised that she would be torn apart and eaten. Plaintive horror filled cries escaped her throat between gasped in breaths. Darkness started eating at the edges of her vision.

"Sankontessou!" She heard the enraged shout dimly. Warm drops fell on her face, and she tasted salt on her tongue, but the sensations barely registered.

"KAGOME!" Warm hands ran over her face frantically, down her neck, arms, torso and legs. She whimpered as the touch made the fire on her skin harsher, the pain becoming so much more present to her senses.

"KAGOME! ANSWER ME DAMMIT!" She felt herself being shaken and gasped in a chocked breath. Suddenly, images of zombies looming above her, their hands tearing hungrily at her, their fetid breath washing over her face as they started closing in to her flesh crashed upon her. She started screeching and clawing at the being holding her.

"KAGOME!" Warm arms, strong like bands of steel, closed around her body until she found her face pressed against scratchy clothing and sweaty skin. Strands of snow white hair clung to her sweaty and bloody cheeks. She gasped in a breath, and another, hyperventilating.

A familiar smell registered.

She gasped once more.

Unbidden, sharp sobs rose within her throat and she started wailing, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around her saviour. She clung to him like a monkey, holding on rigidly, as if she would be torn away at any moment. She felt her saviour and herself go airborne, and then landing on the ground further away. The man holding her crouched on the ground, holding his precious quarry in his lap and running his hands over her slim body carefully to check for injury.

"Inu Yasha, Inu Yasha, Inu Yasha," she whispered incessantly, digging her nails into his shoulders and back like hooks, tears running down her cheeks and neck, dampening his haori.

"I've got you, Kagome, I've got you," he whispered back, running his hands over her hair and spine soothingly.

Kagome leaned back slightly, scrubbing her torn sleeves over her nose and cheeks to soak up her tears, snot and blood. The hanyou's eyes danced all over her form as he stared at her worriedly, trying to pinpoint any possible life-threatening wound. A soft snort brought his attention back to Kagome's face as she sniffled, trying to hold back more tears.

Inu Yasha cupped his hands around her cheeks and tilted her head back, catching her gaze. The battle raged around them, but he ignored it as he took the time to reassure her, and himself, that she was okay. She stared back with moist eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly.

Her facial expression broadcasted some type of inner struggle, increasing his worry. He noticed a tightening of her jaw, and a shudder went through her body. She suddenly tightened her legs around his waist and grasped at his hair to bring his face closer to hers. The sudden motion made him pitch forward, and the hanyou caught himself with one hand on the wall next to her head in order not to fall down. He ended on his knees, looming above Kagome as she stared at him from inches away, one arm around her waist, and her legs still wrapped around him. He dug his nails into the castle wall to repress a shudder, his eyes searching hers.

His eyes widened as she suddenly slanted her lips over his.

The pressure of her lips against his was slightly too harsh, but her kiss conveyed all of the desperation he himself had felt when he had seen her overrun by dead villagers. His eyes slid shut and he tilted her head back forcefully with one hand, and moved his lips against hers hungrily. He brushed his fingertips against the skin of her cheek, mindful of his claws. Kagome let out a high pitched noise in the back of her throat, something between a moan and a whimper. The sound made something low inside of his stomach clench, and he leaned closer, crowding her against the wall. She tightened her legs around his hips, tugging at his hair to bring him impossibly closer, and licked at the seam of his lips in supplication. The hanyou growled low in his throat and tangled his tongue with hers, overwhelmed with all the sensations that attacked his senses. Her warmth, her scent, her taste; everything about her blanketed him and nearly made their surroundings fade.

He felt her break the kiss with one last lingering brush of her lips against his, and opened his eyes. Kagome stared at him with new fire, even as tears ran down her cheeks and her limbs shook considerably. She unwrapped herself from him and crouched on the floor, leaning against the wall behind her.

"GO!" She said harshly, her voice at odds with the fear and plea to stay her facial expression seemed to convey. Inu Yasha licked his lips and stood up quickly. Seeing a soldier running by, he gripped him by the collar and threw him near Kagome.

"PROTECT HER OR DIE!" He barked, then ran towards a clashing group of soldiers and zombies.

The young soldier gaped at his retreating back before turning towards the young woman huddled on the ground. He recoiled as she stood up, and she flinched, imagining what she must look like to him.

"Find me a bow and quiver, please." She asked, using her sleeves to soak up the tears streaming down her cheeks.

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"Dammit!" Sango said to herself as she continued running. A sharp pain in her side told her she would need to stop running soon, her diaphragm seizing painfully.

She gradually slowed down and walked up the last set of stairs carefully, katana at the ready. As she reached the last floor, everything was all too quiet, until she heard a muted thud.

She tightened her hand around the handle of her katana, and walked forward on feathered feet.

Another thud echoed above.

The slayer tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling. Yet another thud sounded out, followed by a cry of pain.

Crack!

The ceiling suddenly caved in the middle of the floor. The slayer reeled back quickly, trying to avoid the falling debris. She lost her footing in her haste though, and fell. Her katana landed a few feet away, clattering against the floor, and she immediately scrambled to her knees to reach for it. Her coccyx throbbed painfully as she forced herself to stand up and take a defensive position.

Sango carefully approached the debris, staring up at the hole. She bit back a gasp as a body fell through the hole and landed on the floor.

The young woman, a miko by the garbs she wore, groaned and blinked slowly. Sango approached the girl carefully, keeping an eye out for her attacker. The miko seemed dazed as she looked around confusedly, and tried to sit up, reaching for her bleeding head. Before the slayer could reach her, the girl winced and fell back down, eyes fluttering shut.

A sharp cry sounded out from the room above, followed by a flash of blue energy.

The slayer immediately crouched next to the wounded girl and felt around her neck for a pulse. It thudded weakly against her fingertips. She grabbed hold of her shoulders to pull the miko away. The girl's head lolled limply as she laid her down on the ground near the stairs, keeping an eye on the hole in the ceiling.

The sound of battle, accompanied by incredible flashes of purifying energy assured her that she was still undetected, or deemed unimportant, for now. A creak on the stairs near where she crouched alerted her to the presence of someone or something, and she immediately brought up her katana, stepping over the body of the unconscious girl in order to protect her if needed be.

A familiar face appeared at the top of the stairs. She saw his eyes widen as they fell onto the girl she protected. The way he reached forward and jerked back quickly, as well as the frightened look into the young man's eyes made Sango tilt her head to the side in consideration.

"Hojo-sama sent me to help," he said absentmindedly, his eyes still roving over the young miko's form.

Comprehension dawned and she stepped back, letting him come closer to the unconscious girl.

"Takumi, she's alive, but she needs help," she said when she noticed the tension in the young boy's body. Without wasting any more time, he rushed closer to the miko. He quickly began running his hands over her form, looking for injuries and talking to her in hushed tones.

Sango turned towards the hole, pondering on her next move. With her hurt shoulder, she would be unable to grip the edges of the ceiling and pull herself in, and she could see no other way of accessing the room. The part of the ceiling that had collapsed was most likely the hidden trap door.

Sango turned towards the young man just as he started rearranging the miko to pick her up, intending to leave.

"Takumi, before you leave, I need your help." She jerked her chin towards the ceiling and waited as he reluctantly left his precious quarry on the ground and approached. The young man hunkered down, and joined his hands together, readying himself to give her a boost.

The slayer licked her lips, tightened her hold on her katana, and stepped closer.

End of chapter 16.

Alright! There wasn't much action for Sango in this one, but I put in some Inu/Kag. I just had to!

Next time: the confrontation with the demon!

I also wish to say thank you to AbaraiArekushisu, Otaku-SIG, Death101- Fox Version, mylovemiroku, and Boobie-chan for your reviews.


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 17**

Sango landed bent at the waist, her upper body anchored against the floor as her legs dangled into empty space. The ragged edges of the hole dug painfully into her waist as she swung her hips to get a leg up on the floor, in vain. Her body started slipping off of the ledge.

She let go of her katana and clawed at the ground to anchor herself as she swung again, and then once more before she got one foot hooked over the edge of the broken floor. The slayer finally rolled her whole body over. For a heartbeat, she lay on her back, panting, her mind blank. She forced herself to move, knowing that she needed to continue fighting, especially when grunts and cries reached her ears.

Sango crouched into a shadowed corner to avoid being noticed. Now standing still and ready to defend herself, it seemed that all of her aches made themselves known. The multiple wounds she sported throbbed painfully and her muscles quivered from all the sudden activity, a reminder that she had little energy left. She took a deep breath, and stood up slowly, steeling herself against the pain as she stepped further into the room.

The area that greeted her was in disarray. Broken pieces of furniture littered the floor, and blood was splattered randomly through the room. A trail of red led to a dismembered body. Judging by the miko garments and heavily wrinkled face, it was an older miko, perhaps older than Kaede-sama even. Sango blinked, and was not surprised to realise that the butchery she was seeing made her feel very little. She had seen too much blood and had killed too many on this day to feel much but some sort of jaded tiredness in her heart.

She heard a grunt followed by a short scream, and immediately moved towards the broken door leading to the second room, where the Shikon shard probably was hidden. Within seconds, a shrill scream echoed, and a small body suddenly came flying out of the doorway, headed for the wall.

Sango immediately dashed forwards, putting all of her energy into increasing her speed, and grasped at the red and white bundle with both arms. The impact against her chest sent her flying back, and she hunkered down, lowering her center of gravity to keep her balance as her feet slid back against the floor. Her back hit the wall hard. The collision jarred her shoulder, making her cry out in pain. She dug her nails without meaning to into the person she held, making them yelp. Hearing the pain-filled sound, Sango immediately let go and looked down at the small body she held.

"Help nee-san! Please, help her! He'll kill her!" A child of maybe ten pleaded with her, revealing one huge teary brown eye, the other side of her face swollen past recognition. Sango let go of the child and stood up carefully, breathing deeply at the increased throbbing in her shoulder.

She nodded to the child, wanting to comfort the little girl but knowing she couldn't afford the time it would cost, and darted forwards. As she approached the doorway, she stole herself against what she would find. She peaked into the room, hiding as much of her body as possible behind the wall.

A tall willowy man faced a miko. The demon's long hair seemed to be floating eerily, undisturbed by the wind that created a small tornado into the room, making paper fly around, and furniture shake. The windstorm made a high pitched whistling sound and the atmosphere seemed heavy, like a weight was pressing down against her shoulders. Yet, for some reason, nothing moved around the miko and the demon, as if they were in a bubble. Sango glanced at the candles lined against the walls, their flames flickering very little.

The slayer recoiled.

The wind and the stifling heaviness in the air were the results of the demon's energy. It was not an attack, but rather a leak of his power, like a crack in a dam that held back so much more. The miko and the demon stood into the eye of the small tornado his power created. He was strong, stronger than Sesshoumarou, possibly. She shivered.

She had otherwise very little information on the demon. He stood with his back to her, hiding other markers that she could have used to identify his age or race. She noted that he already sported some injuries, his skin bubbling and smoking at his left thigh and right arm.

Her gaze flickered to his opponent. Bright light emanated from the miko as she hacked and burned at tree branches that seemingly came out of nowhere. The wooden whips danced and ran along the walls, sprouting from every piece of wood in the room, coming at her from all directions. They tried to capture or injure, nearly overwhelming in their sheer numbers.

The attack was not one Sango was familiar with, but it made her ponder if the demon might be from an elemental or nature oriented specie. It was unlikely she had faced such a demon in the past no matter his specie though. Most humanoid species of demon tended to keep away from humans unless sick or starving, deeming them below their notice. Furthermore, they were much more dangerous foes. In her village, only a small secret faction had hunted these demons. Those Taijiya had been the best and the ones with the least to lose. And yet, for all their skills, they often had had the help of mikos, other demons, or magic practitioners. The survival rate? Low. With a demon as powerful as this? Even lower.

This miko seemed to be somewhat holding her own though. She gripped a wakizashi in one hand, the blade infused with holy power. She used the weapon in a way that spoke of skills and hard hours of practice, cutting off branches that came too close efficiently and with economy of movements. Her power created a bright glow around her whole body, like a thin coating of light, and each move of her wakizashi left an arc of purifying energy behind her that faded slowly. Other branches got past her defences near her feet, and one wrapped itself around her ankle. Yet, before it could do anything else, the wooden vine froze and withered slowly. Sango's eyes widened as it dawned that the miko had created a shield around her whole body with her miko power, something that she had never seen done before. The sheer power the woman displayed awed her, and her respect for her grew.

And yet, for all of her powers, blood already stained the miko's shoulder and stomach, thin lines of red stark against her white top. Blood also rolled down the side of her face, and some dripped onto the floor underneath her from a source unseen.

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Chou looked at the man sleeping for the hundredth time, stood up, and started pacing. He still did not wake, but tossed and turned with soft groans. Her gaze fell upon his face, and she noticed the grimace of pain he now sported. She bit on her lower lip, uncomfortable at seeing a person suffer.

Yet, she did not dare come closer to him to provide help or support as she knew of his illness. She did not wish to become sick, to die wracked by pain and then become one of the beings outside.

She shivered.

All that she had wanted was help for Arata. He had been assigned a dangerous job, one that threatened his very existence. Who could she have asked help from but the only person in the castle solely trained to destroy demons?

She loved Arata. He was sweet to her, and he made her laugh. She liked spending time with him, and she cared about him. Arata was good to her. He was safe. He adored her.

She was in love with him.

She wanted him.

Maybe if she told herself those things often enough, she would believe them. Maybe she would convince herself that he was more than a dear friend, more than something of a brother.

She couldn't help but yearn for the Takeda heir. He had always been so untouchable, as handsome and powerful as he was. Compared to him, she was no one, and he had been interested in her. No one such as him had ever shown an interest into her before. The words he had whispered in her ear, soft and seductive, had made her heart sing with need. The way he had touched her, his hands warm and heavy on her body, had wrenched mewling cries from her throat. Those things couldn't be forgotten.

She had to, though.

He had said she was different.

He had said he held her above others.

He had said he loved her.

He had lied.

Tears prickled at her eyes.

Arata was all that she had now, the only person that truly cared about her. To lose him was unacceptable. Worry gnawed at her as she thought of him facing the demon, or even meeting one of the dead beings in battle.

An uneasy feeling settled into her stomach. What if the slayer failed, weakened as she was?

She glanced at the sleeping monk again, and made her way to the door.

.

.

.

"Is that all you have, demon?" The miko shouted over the wind, her voice dripping with determination and cockiness. Nonetheless, the slayer could see the sweat beading on her face, and wetting her clothing, belying the strain she was under. The demon did not answer, but shifted his stance, advancing on the miko more aggressively. If possible, the glow around her body became brighter, and she grunted. Her miko power concentrated into her free hand and a small thin blade made of holy power seemingly appeared at each of her fingernails. The demon changed also, his form becoming bulkier, growing in height and width. He displayed elongated sharp claws in an attempt to cow her. He seemed intent on his prey, advancing closer still as he directed the branches to hit at his opponent's back, no doubt in an effort to divide her attention.

Using the demon's distraction, Sango approached slowly, her blade at the ready. She ignored the wind whipping at her crusty yukata and hair, the black strands impeding her vision, and prayed that the demon would not smell her. She saw the miko's eyes flicker towards her and detected the fear in them as the woman thought her an innocent Samaritan, one that, even with good intentions, would be a hindrance.

The slayer shook her head, looking at the miko grimly, trying to impart that she need not pay her any attention, but the distraction cost the holy woman. A thick branch wacked her in the back of the head and, in her attempt to find her balance, she slipped in the blood coating the floor. The demon dashed forwards to slash at her chest with his claws. Instead of struggling to right herself, the woman let herself fall slantways to avoid the claws and sliced at the demon's unprotected side before tucking her body in and rolling to her feet.

Sango danced to the side at the same time to stay at the demon's back, keeping herself out of his field of vision. She grimaced as she concentrated on finding a good opening for an attack.

A thin line of blood blossomed at the miko's side, but the woman ignored it, smiling with grim satisfaction as she saw smoke coming out of the demon's side, accompanied with the scent of burning flesh. The demon licked his long bloody nails as a taunt, but the miko's expression did not change. Sango noticed that she flicked three fingers against her hakama pants, the holy energy nails flaring brighter, and her eyes darted over the demon's shoulder quickly to connect with Sango's. She nodded

One.

The miko darted forward and slashed at the demon with her wakizashi. He jumped back to avoid the attack and shifted forwards in an offensive move, going for her throat. She blocked the attack with her blade, grunting under the strain of holding him back.

Two.

Sango shifted her stance.

The miko concentrated more holy power into the stilettos at the tip of her fingers, and with a self-satisfied smile, she thrust her fingers against his side. The demon jumped back to avoid the attack, and skid back slightly as he landed. The holy woman pressed forward with a snarl.

Three.

The slayer dashed forward and swung with all of her strength, ignoring the pain in her back, her shoulder, and her head. Nothing mattered. Her heart seemingly slowed and her breathing stopped, stuck still for a second.

She swung.

Blood coated her blade, now stuck into the demon's side. The youkai looked at her over his shoulder, smiling slightly. Yet, nothing shone in his flat and dull golden gaze as he turned slightly, showing her that he held her blade, and had thus stopped it from going deeper into his body. He tugged the katana easily from her hand, and blocked a surprise attack from the miko as Sango watched, stunned. The fraction of second she paused cost the slayer, as within moments he turned back to her and backhanded her. The strength of the blow sent her flying to collide against the wall. She fell on the ground in a heap.

Darkness crept in, and swallowed her.

She did not know how long she had been unconscious when she awoke next.

The dazed woman blinked rapidly as she crouched, trying to clear her vision, but the room spun and spun around her, making it hard to think, or to stand. She licked her lips, searched the wall for an anchor as she unfolded her body, and stood awkwardly. The slayer discerned shapes moving, but the black dots dancing in front of her eyes made it hard to understand what she saw. She heard a sharp feminine cry, making her go rigid and dart forwards to fight once more, only to fall on her knees from dizziness.

The clamour of feet running into the room and the sound of weapons being drawn brought her attention to the side. Three men stood at the entry of the room. With horror, Sango recognized one of them as Takeda Rikuto.

"No! Stay back!" She barked out, her voice hoarse, and the sharp sound made her head pound harder. Rikuto turned to look at her, raked her form with a gaze filled with disgust, and gestured his guards forwards. The men obeyed immediately, and rushed the demon without much hesitation. The slayer tracked their movements, her next shout dying in her throat as she watched the demon tear the head off of one of the guard, and then gut the other one from pelvis to neck within minutes, before tossing their bodies carelessly on the ground.

The youkai stalked closer to the miko, who immediately scrambled to her feet, slipping a few times in the blood that pooled under her. Her wakizashi was nowhere to be seen and no holy energy coated her body in a protective layer, but she tilted her chin up, looking at him defiantly. Sango's mind rebelled as it became all too apparent that the miko had run out of purifying energy and, without any other weapon, had become helpless. The demon was going for the kill. The slayer darted forward and bent over a dead guard to grasp the wakizashi strapped at his back.

The demon cornered the holy woman. Sango could only admire her courage as the miko still stared the demon down. Suddenly, bright light flickered at her fingertips, and claws made of pure miko energy reappeared. She slashed at the demon's face in an uppercut. Yet, due to her opponent's reflexes, the energy only grazed his cheek and then died, leaving another fresh burn. The strike would have killed him for sure had it hit, embedding four spikes of purifying energy into his brain.

"You are out of power, miko." The demon grated out, his voice rough, as if he had not used it for a time. He grasped at her neck and pulled her up, chocking her with one hand and letting the weight of her body do the rest as she hung in his hold. The slayer lunged at the demon, her eyes meeting that of the miko's, still hardened, still refusing to give up even as she clawed at his hand in a futile attempt to free herself.

Sango swung, and tripped, wooden vines pulling her feet from underneath her. She fell harshly on her front, her breathe whooshing out of her body.

No.

No.

She would not give up. She gritted her teeth, saw an opening and slashed at his ankle. The cut sectioned the tendon at the back of his leg, making it impossible for him to move that leg. She went for his second ankle, but he evaded her. The demon tossed the miko to the side to turn towards Sango.

"You are a nuisance." He grounded out. Sango darted a look at the miko and was relieved to see that, even though her lips were tinted purple, her chest rose and fell slowly. The fear that had gripped her as she had seen him slowly choke the other woman left her, but apprehension for her own safety quickly prickled at her senses, like hundred of thin needles being pushed into her skin.

The demon gripped her hair and pulled her up. Even on one knee, he was tall, and as he brought her to her knees in front of him, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. She felt strands of hair being pulled out but did not cry out, grinding her teeth. The demon regarded her for a second and then looked over her shoulder, a small grin of anticipation appearing on his face. She heard a grunt and turned her head as much as she could.

Rikuto hung in wooden vines, struggling against their hold. She hissed a breath between her teeth, suddenly all too aware of her failure. The heir would die, creating instability, for what was a monarch without a successor? He would die, and the demon would have the shard, and would continue his rampage, killing more, always more. She heard the creaks of wood, heard a grunt, and then nothing.

Seemingly satisfied, the demon turned his attention back to her. He traced one claw down her cheek, making a thin line of blood pearl at the surface. She bit on her lower lip, swallowing a whimper of pain. He tilted his head.

"So much persistence, so much blood. You killed so many of my children." The comments seemed disinterested, a mere observation of facts, as if she was beneath his notice, as well as the ones she had killed.

"Damn you! You fucking demon! How dare you touch me!" The demon turned his gaze to Rikuto.

A lightning quick movement.

Pain.

Sango gasped. The demon let her fall down on the ground like one would discard trash, and went to the captive Takeda heir.

The slayer's hands shook as she pressed them against her stomach; blood poured down the four slashes across her abdomen, from her belly button and down across her pelvis. She felt with her fingers, pushing the digits in until her nails disappeared within her abdomen. Sobs wracked her body at the pain, but she needed to know, needed to be sure.

The cuts were deep, so deep.

She pulled her fingertips out with chocked whimpers of pain.

They were deep enough to nick an artery.

A sound escaped her throat, one filled with despair and pain, like that of a wounded animal. A cold wave washed over her, rendering her naked, vulnerable, mortal.

They were deep enough to kill.

Even if he hadn't cut the artery and medics somewhat repaired the damage, she would die.

This was the kind of wound that killed you slowly, but that, in the end, always won. She had seen Taijiyas die from such lesions; they had died from the infection that ravaged their bodies as the content of their intestines spilled into their abdomen. She had heard their cries of pain, witnessed their decay, and mourned their deaths.

She was condemned.

The cuts would be fatal, quickly, if she died from blood loss, slowly, if her organs shut down one by one from the infection in her blood.

Something unfurled in her chest, a deep incandescent desire to live, to survive. She couldn't die without freeing her brother, without having avenged her village, without seeing her friends again.

The demon advanced towards the bound man.

"Where is the shard?" He rasped out.

"Fuck you!" Rikuto shouted back, spitting in his face. The demon did not react for a second, then racked his claws down the man's chest, leaving four long gouges behind. Rikuto screamed, spittle rolling down his chin, tears wetting his face. He panted through deep sobs as the demon stopped to lick the blood off of his fingers.

Sango gasped in a breath and then another, trying to staunch the bleeding by pressing her hands hard against the cuts. Tears poured down her cheeks.

No.

No.

"Where is the shard?"

"I... It's...the child... the child..." Sango's breath caught in her chest as she remembered a swollen face with one huge brown eye belonging to a child pleading for help for her sister.

"No! Takeda-sama, no!" She cried out. The demon tossed one look at her over his shoulder.

"Interesting." He brought his hand up, the intent clear, and Sango scrambled for purchase against the floor as she tried to gain her feet, to do something before he killed the heir and went after the child.

A small shriek escaped her lips as she saw the claws come down, claws that never reached the bound man. Yuuto stood next to both the demon and the heir, having blocked the hit. He grimaced in pain against the weight of the attack, shifted his stance, and let go of his katana with one hand. With a small step to the side he thrust his hand towards the demon. A hidden blade popped up and with a snarl, he stabbed the demon in the side. The demon hissed out a breath and leaped back, landing on one knee awkwardly.

"So we meet again, demon." Yuuto panted out, flicking his hand to the side to shake the blood off of his blade before retracting it and grasping his katana with both hands again. The demon did not comment, and Yuuto leaped forwards, drawing the demon away from the heir. Sango crawled to Rikuto, keeping an arm wrapped around her abdomen to staunch the flow of blood. She grasped a fallen katana with her free hand. The slayer started hacking weakly at the inert wooden vines that kept Rikuto upright until he fell on the ground. Blood spurted out of her wounds with each swing of her katana. With a grimace of pain she shuffled in front of the heir to check on his vitals. So far, the man was alive, if unconscious. More blood poured out of her wounds as she put herself in front of him to form one last line of protection, as weak as it might be.

Sango darted a gaze towards Yuuto. The demon and he danced around each other carefully, both injured and both studying their opponent for weaknesses. She quickly tore long strips of cloth from Rikuto's outer kimono, grimacing at the throbbing it caused in her wounds. Yet, she needed to bandage her abdomen, if only to insure her survival a little while longer.

She wouldn't get justice for her village but...

Let her live long enough to kill this demon.

Let her survive just until he couldn't hurt anyone else again.

She wrapped the bandages tightly and, spying a small bejewelled dagger hidden in Rikuto's layers of kimono, grasped it as a secondary weapon. Her hands shook as she tended to her wounds and readied herself to continue battle, tears and snots running down her face slowly. She wiped her face with her sleeve, telling herself to harden her heart.

A sharp scream brought her attention, and she saw the demon thrust his fingers through Yuuto's shoulder, pinning him to the wall with his claws. He gritted his teeth even as he let out a long wailing scream, the tendons in his neck standing at the strain.

She stumbled forward, incapable of stealth in her state.

Black spots appeared before her eyes, and her vision blurred. Her body started feeling heavy.

The demon threw her a dismissing look over his shoulder. The male slayer tried to use the distraction, and the demon plunged his other hand nails into Yuuto's wrist in retaliation as he tried to slash at the demon's throat with his hidden blade.

She fell against the demon's back weakly, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other at his hip, but he still ignored her.

Arrogance.

He thought her weak, dying most probably.

Sango tightened her arm around his neck and let herself fall back suddenly. The unexpected movement, coupled with his injured leg, made the demon lose his balance. With a small shriek, she plunged her dagger into the demon's kidney and twisted. His body immediately bowed, his eyes and mouth opening wide even as no sound came out, shock setting in quickly. He started falling back and she twisted her body, directing him to the side. She ripped out her dagger quickly, and grasping his chin with her free hand, she pulled it back.

The taijiya dragged the blade across his trachea and carotid arteries.

The demon fell to his side, his whole body contracting as he tried to gasp in breaths even as blood started pouring out of the incision at his throat. Sango fell next to him on her side, looking at her enemy with hooded eyes. Her own blood loss made her body heavy, and her mind fuzzy. She was sleepy, so sleepy, and knew that she too, was dying. Blood loss then, would kill her before she could suffer much more. As she had thought he had nicked the artery running through her pelvis and towards her inner thigh. She could only be thankful the cut had been small enough to give her the minutes she needed to kill the demon before bleeding out. The demon turned his head weakly to the side to look at her, fear transforming his face.

"Your army may be dead, but you, you are alive, son of a bitch." She rasped out, her words slurred. It had become evident that while his army was made of dead villagers, the demon was thrumming with life. Being a humanoid demon, she had bet on him having a very similar physiology to a human's. She had taken a chance, knifing him in the kidney to immobilise him and then cut his throat. It was a standard selective assassination. Even with his healing abilities, he had little chance of healing fast enough to survive. By underestimating her, he had caused his own death. And now, as she lay dying, she had the satisfaction of having killed the one responsible for so much grief, stopping him from harming more, and gaining vengeance for his past victims.

A small smile appeared on the demon's lips, and he reached forward with one clawed hand. She watched him darkly, but did not move, fearing nothing from the dying demon. Nothing he could do would change her fate.

His clawed fingers brushed at her stomach even as he started gurgling, choking on the blood now filling his lungs, stealing his breathes as his body was being denied the precious blood it needed to survive. Warm golden eyes stared at her intently, the color now soft, filled with acceptance and relief. They filled her mind, so different than before, and the darkness closed around her slowly, oh so slowly.

She saw his lips move.

_Thank you._

A warm glow spread over her stomach, and faded.

Sango gasped in a breath, her body arching as she sucked in the air. Her fingers crept to her abdomen, brushing over her skin, searching for the wounds underneath the blood. Her nails scratched smooth unmarred skin, leaving behind red welts. She started hyperventilating, tearing at her yukata to widen the holes and searched frantically her body. Her shoulder still protested her movements, and her body still felt tender and achy, but the gouges that would have killed her were healed.

She turned her gaze towards Yuuto as she lay, confused. Her mind seemingly stalled, unable to work through the information. The demon had healed her. He had healed her from an injury that was killing her, for reasons she couldn't fathom. She numbly noticed the other slayer looking over the Takeda heir's more superficial wounds. She stumbled to her feet, attracting his attention. He looked at her, saw her holding her stomach, started coming closer, but then stumbled, stunned as she let her hands fall down, revealing nothing but unblemished skin. Her head spun as she tried to move forward, the result of being weakened from blood loss, so she contented herself with leaning against the wall.

"How?" He whispered as he approached her, reaching out towards her stomach to touch her skin. His hand stayed suspended in the air, and then dropped. Mahogany eyes clashed with green. She bit on her lower lip to stop it from trembling, eyes wide and shining with bewilderment.

"He did it." She nodded over her shoulder to their dead foe, and saw her companion frown from the corner of her eyes. Yuuto stepped closer and traced his fingertip along the soft skin under her bellybutton. Sango startled, flinching at the unexpected touch, and turned her gaze to her fellow slayer. His eyes followed his fingertips as he traced them along her skin lingeringly, before he let his hand fall at his side. His eyes rose to hers, troubled, but also filled with relief. She swallowed hard, uncomfortable at the intimacy of the moment, and the reminder that for all intent and purpose, she should be dead. She did not want to think about it, not now. Later, when everyone was safe, later she would sit down, cry and ponder.

"The heir?" She breathed out, needing to move forwards, to put the moment that had passed between them behind.

"He'll be fine. The demon was not trying to kill him." The yet stayed unsaid, even though they know it was what it would have come down to. A small form bounded into the room.

"NEE-CHAN!" The girl ran towards her fallen sister, tears running down her face. Sango ambled towards her, and knelt down next to the child. The young miko in training reached out to fist her sister's uniform and started shaking her.

"NEE-CHAN! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" Tears and snot ran down the girl's face as she cried for her sister to wake up. The slayer put her hands over the child's and forcibly made her release her sister, knowing the rough jarring could aggravate any injury she had.

Sango cupped the child's unhurt cheek and turned her face to look at her.

"Calm down. She'll be okay." She repeated the words again and again as the child shook her head and cried, low panicked noises coming from the back of her throat, full of fear and pain. Her good eye kept darting to her sister's prone form, and each look renewed her tears and struggles.

"I need you to get help for your sister, can you do that?" She asked gently, tilting the girl's head further back to catch her eyes, trying to get her attention. The girl snorted back snot, blinking up at the slayer as she brushed her thumb along her cheeks to catch her tears. The child nodded, turning worried eyes towards her sister's still form.

"She's okay, but she needs help. Go fetch the medics." The slayer insisted softly, pushing the girl towards the doorway with a gentle hand along her back. The child brushed her sleeve along her face, and started running. Sango turned her gaze back to the unconscious miko on the floor. She saw Yuuto crouch next to the dead demon and moved to stand next to him. He reached forward and opened the dead demon's clothing to take a closer look.

"Can't this wait?" Sango asked, tossing a fretting look over her shoulder at the two unconscious people in the room with them. Yuuto shook his head.

"No chance to take. We might lose clues." Sango nodded, but did not crouch, preferring to keep an eye out for the two unconscious people, eyeing their chests once in a while to ensure they were still breathing.

"From what I gathered at first look, when I came in, and his attacks, I'd say he's an elemental demon, or maybe some kind of trees or plants demon." She informed him. He nodded.

"My thoughts exactly." She saw Yuuto bend forward, pushing his face closer to the demon's chest, and frowned.

"What is it?" The slayer asked, crouching next to him.

"Look at that." He pointed to black skin that seemed soft and mushy. Under their gaze, the black seemed to slowly spread. Blood started welling at the surface of the skin as it broke into tiny cracks and sores.

"He's...rotting?" Sango breathed out. They looked at each other in askance, bewildered. The rot continued to spread, higher and higher.

A pulse. The slayer sucked in a breath.

"Did you feel that?" She whispered. They both started looking around the room.

Another pulse.

Coldness crept over their skin, and their stomach tightened. The hair at the nape of her neck stood on end. Fear. It was the feel of fear, a primitive instinct ingrained into humans to let them know they were being hunted. Many learned to ignore it, but slayers cultivated it, for it could be used as a tool.

The feel of youki suddenly blanketed the room, pulsing slowly, and then quicker. They stood up, looking around more frantically, searching for its source, but nothing seemed out of place.

"Another demon?" Sango asked. Yuuto's gaze narrowed but he did not reply. They had no way of knowing until their foe showed himself.

They heard a wet squelching noise and turned as one to face the dead demon on the ground. As they turned, an explosion rocked the room, propelling them. They hit the wall hard, wrenching cries from both slayers, and the breath got knocked out of their body. A fresh spray of blood splattered their face and chest.

Horror washed over Sango as the demon's body bowed, shaking as if in the throes of what Kagome had called one day an epilepsy crisis. The bones of his ribs jutted out at unnatural angles, sticking out of his now opened chest, a cavity pilled with blood and organs. The organs started moving up and down, as if rocked by an invisible wave. They moved up and up, until they parted slowly, falling to the side. Huge pincers suddenly appeared, cutting the organs and moving out of the mess. A red oval head was revealed, dripping blood and bits and pieces of intestine. Insectoid eyes stared at them. Sango felt vomit make its way up her throat, but swallowed it back, clenching her fingers into her thighs.

Blood wetted the ground as the being slowly untangled itself from organs, flesh and bones. High pitched noise escaped the being as it stepped out of its host.

"Motherfucker!" She heard her companion breath out. They scrambled to their knees at the same time, searching for weapons. Before they could so much as close a finger around the hilt of a katana, the demon moved. Faster than the eyes could follow, it was out of the room.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Yuuto gritted out as they rushed to follow.

End chapter.

Eh non, it is not over yet. That would have been too easy, and there are too many questions left to answer, and too much I want to do with Miroku and Sango. I promise there are more interactions between those two coming up! The story actually has a bunch of chapters left, as I believe in building romance slowly, especially in that case.

I also added a short scene as a reminder of where Miroku was and what was going on with him, as it was brought up in reviews. You'll see more of him in the next chapter!

I was very lucky to receive many reviews on this chapter, and I wanted to thank you guys for that: AbaraiArekushisu, Otaku-SIG, Death101-Fox Version, kaerfemina, Boobie-Chan, chibi-sango16, mylovemiroku and Bakachild.

I hope that you enjoyed!


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 18**

Sango and Yuuto stared at the hole in the wall where the parasitic demon seemingly had escaped through. The trail ended there though. Suddenly, there was no more blood, just an empty hallway. Yuuto ran one hand over his mouth, his figure tense as he regarded the hole thoughtfully.

"We should go help the others," Sango finally suggested. The man looked at her over his shoulder and nodded. For now, they had no way of finding the demon. All they could do was try to help in the battle ragging outside. They made their way towards the front of the castle, and slowly started encountering more and more soldiers. The men seemed relieved, if not edgy from what they had experienced and the resulting injuries.

"Sango!" A feminine voice called out. The slayer looked over her shoulder for the person calling her name. Kagome waved at her from her perch in Inu Yasha's arms. The demon carried the miko bridal style, her slim body cradled close to his chest. The hanyou was acting very possessive, holding her very close and glowering at anyone who looked their way. Sango's brows furrowed as she looked Kagome over, instantly concerned.

"Are you okay, Kagome?" She asked when they got close enough. The girl nodded, but the slayer knew that to be a half truth. Closer inspection showed that the girl was sporting multiple welts and cuts on the exposed skin of her legs, as well as a swollen set of teeth marks on her outer thigh. She was covered in blood and dust, her school uniform torn and stained beyond recognition. Moreover, she was pale, and looked drawn, her cheeks hollow and her eyes bright with exhaustion. Sango looked at Inu Yasha, and saw the same concern for the miko reflected in his gaze.

"Sango? Are you okay?" The slayer nodded and fell in step with them. Her fellow slayer turned nodded at her and became lost in the crowd of soldiers milling about.

"What happened? We were coming to join the battle," she added. She darted another look at the miko and found her half asleep, her face snuggled into the crook of the hanyou's neck and her eyes closed.

"The battle is over. The bastards turned and left." She nodded. They probably had followed the parasite that had escaped. The thought made her sag in relief. For now, the battle was over. The enemy was still out there, and would need to be hunted down and killed, but they had survived the night. Rejoice, a part of her whispered, the part that was a slayer. Every win meant living longer, and fighting another day. For now though, there was little else for her to celebrate.

What she had seen had brought a lot of answers, but it also had brought many questions. They needed to talk, to recoup and to figure out a plan. This was far from over. For now though, they were all too exhausted, or hurt, to do so. They needed to rest and regain their strength. She put her hand on Inu Yasha's arm lightly.

"Get some rest," she jutted her chin towards the miko as she spoke, knowing that the stubborn hanyou would not refuse if it had to do with Kagome. It was the most likely she was of getting him to rest and not pursuing answers tonight.

"I have to get back to my cell. We need to talk when she wakes up. Bring Yuuto, the mercenary, with you" she added at the end, unsure he would know otherwise who she was talking about. With that, she turned, and left to find her cell, and the man that waited there.

.

.

.

Sango approached the door to her cell cautiously, and immediately noticed the door was wide open.

"Chou?" She called out. No one answered. Her heart quickened as immediately scenario after scenario of what could have gone wrong came to her mind.

She started looking for a sign of a struggle, but found none. Sango bit on her lower lip and stepped into the room carefully, looking for a threat.

"Chou? Miroku?" She called out once more, her voice breaking at the monk's name. If something had happened to him during her absence, she would never forgive herself. She searched the near darkness, body tense and her stomach knotting painfully.

"S'ngo?" A weak voice called out. Sango shuddered, a breath escaping her mouth shakily in relief. She noticed movements in the shadows to her left and immediately made her way closer. Fingers closed around her ankle, making her flinch in surprise, but she did not pull away. The slayer fell to her knees and searched with her hands for the man the fingers belonged to. She encountered a warm chest and sucked in a breath. Her hands moved upward to a neck, scratchy jaw and sharp cheekbones.

"Are you okay, Miroku?" She felt him nod even as he leaned into her touch. Reluctantly, she let her hands fall to her sides. The dark-haired girl turned her body and leaned against the wall next to her friend silently. After everything, after all the wounds, the fights and the worries, adrenaline finally fell and exhaustion crept over her. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out deeply. Her thoughts slowed, a heavy lethargy filling her limbs and mind as sleep gained momentum. A warm hand fell on hers, startling her out of near sleep. She jerked, snorting as she came awake suddenly. Sango felt Miroku twine his fingers with hers.

"Are you okay, S'ngo?" Her companion breathed out, his tone of voice bellying how sick he was. She nodded, forgetting that he could not see her in the dark, and then made a soft noise of assent. The slayer let her head fall back against the wall with a sigh.

"I'll need to stay awake for a while, but I will be fine," she added at his silence. She had hit her head thrice in the process of the fight; first with the explosion, then when the demon had back-handed her to hit the wall and finally when the parasite had created some kind of explosion that had sent her flying. She didn't feel any nausea or dizziness, maybe as a result of the miraculous healing the demon had done on her, but she couldn't take any chance. Warriors of her village had fallen asleep and never woken up after having been hit on the head. If she made it through the night, she would be fine. She wouldn't hide that truth from the monk. To lie would only make him worry more as he wondered how much she was hiding from him, and he didn't have energy to spare on such trivial things.

"Where is Chou?" She asked, now remembering the girl was nowhere to be seen.

"She left," he answered after a short silence. Sango exhaled loudly, threads of anger wrapping themselves around her heart. She had left the girl here to take care of Miroku and to be safe, and she had left, not only that, but without locking the cell door behind her, thus endangering Miroku. For the second time, the girl's inconsiderate actions had put someone in danger. She licked her lips.

"Were you attacked?"

He did not answer. Sango gritted her teeth, knowing the answer to her question from his silence.

"How many?"

"Two," he breathed out. The small word seemed to cost him, and she felt him slumping against her side. She bit back a grunt of pain as it jarred the shoulder she had dislocated. She didn't want to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, was afraid of the answer, but could not help herself.

"How?" She asked, her voice small. He sighed, and she let her head fall forwards, her heart awash in grief. He had used the wind tunnel. He had sucked in more of the illness. He was already so sick. Kami only knew what the effect on him would be. Tears prickled at her eyes.

She had had a shot. She nearly had killed the demon responsible for the plague. She had failed. Maybe, if she had succeeded, Miroku would have been healed. Maybe it would all have been over. But she had not been strong enough, and now he had sucked in more of the illness. She bit on her lower lip, hard.

"M' s'rry, S'ngo." She heard the whisper, and it made her chest tighten even more, because it wasn't his fault. He had done what he could to survive in his condition. It was her fault that he had been alone. She had trusted the girl even though she shouldn't have, and he had paid the price.

"Don't, Miroku," she finally replied, squeezing his fingers when she could not bring herself to say more. She closed her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

.

.

.

Sango woke up with a start. She jerked her body upright, heart racing, fear sharp in her mind. She had fallen asleep a few hours ago, sometimes in the morning, unable to fight her exhaustion anymore. Thank Kami she had not died in her sleep. Her neck throbbed from the strange position she had slept in, but she ignored it, too caught up in a threat she could not find.

It was just a dream she reminded herself, or rather, a reminder of what she had fought against. She searched the room, squinting against the dim lighting, but found nothing amidst. She sighed, and turned her gaze to the man sleeping next to her.

They had fallen asleep with their back to the wall, next to the door. Miroku's head was pillowed on her thigh, one of his hands wrapped around her knee. Sango brought one hand up, hesitated, and then brushed her fingertips along his forehead. His skin felt warm and slightly clammy to her touch. She closed her eyes, letting her face fall forward until her chin touched her chest. A sharp pain at the move made her wince, but her sorrow made her head heavy, too heavy to care. Her whole body ached, and she could tell her shoulder was swollen as it throbbed angrily. Yet, what ached the most was her heart. The new day only reinforced the clarity that the demon was out there, preying on others right at this moment, while her friend, the monk, was dying from whatever poison or disease it had been spreading. She brushed her fingers in his hair gently, tormented by vision of what could become of Miroku.

Sango straightened quickly as she heard footsteps approaching, and with great care, laid Miroku's head on the floor. She was surprised to see a guard posted at the entrance of their cell as she approached its door, especially when that guard turned out to be Arata. He looked at her over his shoulder as she clutched the bars in her hands. He appeared nervous, shuffling his feet, glancing about as if danger awaited. She tensed. Was it not over for now? Had there been some kind of attack? She turned her head as she heard two voices approaching, their bickering loud in the silence of the hallway.

"I can walk, Inu Yasha!" A female protested.

"KEH!" Was the only answer.

The half-demon and priestess stepped closer to the torches lining the wall, revealing themselves. Without a word, Arata opened the cell door and let them enter. Sango stepped back, surprised beyond words. She hadn't thought they would have been allowed within her cell. She glanced at the young soldier, but he ducked his head and closed the door behind her apparent guests.

"Where is Yuuto?" She asked in confusion. Inu Yasha finally let Kagome slide down to the floor. She seemed wobbly as she tried to regain her balance, her whole body shaking from the strain of simply staying up. Inu Yasha shrugged in answer to the slayer's question.

"Are you okay, Sango?" The priestess asked, even as she lingered in the hanyou's arms, clutching his haori to steady herself. Seeing Sango nod, and with great reluctance it seemed, she took a step towards the low table and sat down. The girl from the future crossed her arms over the table and laid her head on them. Inu Yasha followed, his eyes sharp as he gazed at the miko, not sparring Sango a look. She did not take it personally, but looked on wonderingly as she sat down herself. There was a change in the way the hanyou and miko carried themselves around each other, as if they were painfully aware of each other and afraid of it, or of getting too close, or too far from one another. Her perusal was cut short as Yuuto entered the room and took a seat silently next to her. He threw her a worried look, scanning her body, but she only shook her head at him. She startled when she saw Inu Yasha glaring at Yuuto, who ignored the white-haired man studiously. Her brows furrowed, but she chose to let it go, knowing that they had more important matters at hand. However, overall, the atmosphere was quite uncomfortable. Miroku slept on, obvious.

"I'm sure you've heard about the dead demon in the castle," she intoned, breaking the silence. They nodded.

"Yet, we did not defeat the demon yesterday," Kagome's head snapped up, and Inu Yasha turned a scowl towards the slayer.

"WHAT?" He snapped, his knuckles now white as he squeezed the edges of the table. Sango thought she heard the wood crack, but couldn't be sure.

"What happened?" Asked the priestess tiredly. And so, Yuuto and Sango told them about the battle they had fought, and how a giant parasite had crawled out of the demon's body. The demon and miko's eyes were quite wide, and the priestess looked a little nauseous.

"It looked like...an ant?" She asked haltingly, as if she could not believe it. Had she not seen it herself, Sango would have been hard pressed to believe it too, so her friends' incredulousness was not unexpected. Inu Yasha was strangely quiet against all expectations as he stared at the table with an eerie stillness.

"Inu Yasha?" Kagome whispered, breaking his musings. The demon's gaze moved to rove over the miko before catching Sango's eyes.

"A parasite." Both slayers nodded, even as Sango's eyes narrowed, her focus now on the uncharacteristically thoughtful hanyou. She hesitated, licking her lips.

"I... I think... she might have been a queen." Yuuto whipped his head to look at her, surprise evident on his face.

"She had... some bead-like eyes at the back of her head… and her abdomen was big. Very big." The ramifications of what she had just suggested nearly choked her. She had spent a part of the night after Miroku had fallen asleep thinking about everything that had happened, decorticating every detail for clues.

The demon had been nearly bipolar in his dealings with her. He had been malicious and dismissive as he attacked her, but he had thanked her and healed a wound that would have killed her as he had lain, dying. His eyes had been cold and vacant, but had melted into a warm golden tone as he watched her in his last moments, even with death hovering so close. It didn't make sense.

And then…

"When the demon attacked me, he said I had killed his children," the slayer added. Kagome now looked more than ready to barf as she stared at her with wide glassy eyes. Yuuto looked at her pensively, but finally nodded his support.

Kagome pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, and spoke up.

"It would explain why my arrows worked so well on the dead villagers, as well as Inu Yasha's attacks, whereas simple physical attacks were often not as effective." She smiled humorlessly, fine lines appearing at the corner of her mouth.

"Have you ever heard of something like this, any of you?" The miko asked hoarsely. The slayer understood her horror and dismay. If she was right, it would mean that every villager that had died had been infested by one or many parasites, their body decomposing slowly under the strain until the parasite left and found a new host. There could be thousands of them, maybe more as they became aided by the Shikon no Tama shards.

"Not on this scale," Yuuto replied. Immediately three pairs of eyes centered on him. Inu Yasha nodded at the slayer, his acrimony put aside for now.

"We encountered an infestation similar to this in the west, near Sanuki. It was some type of ant demons that was using cattle to expand their nests. The animals would die in a few days from some kind of internal rot, and the ants would take over whatever the farmers were cultivating, using the remains to fertilize the acquired crops. An easy job." He shrugged, fingering the dagger tucked into his belt.

"An ant demon queen," Kagome whispered, staring at the table.

"With the shard, it could have become powerful enough," Sango added. The thought was mind blowing. If it could do this much with one shard, how many more could these demons infect? And then, there was the queen herself. She had had to be powerful to be a parasite to such a strong demon as her host had been. It would have been hard to infect him in the first place, and then to control him afterwards. Did the shard make her powerful enough to infect higher level demons? Did it change her ability to lay eggs? Did it allow her to have a broader nest in term of territory? There were so many questions. And then, who would be her next host?

"The queen won't be able to get another demon host that easily," Yuuto mused aloud.

"Lower power demons and humans won't fare well, and would decompose quickly. As it was, her previous host had started decomposing already." Sango bit on her lower lip, worrying it with her teeth.

"We'll track the bitch, then." Inu Yasha shrugged carelessly, but Sango could see the determination in his eyes and the tic in his jaw.

"She has a frigging army of dead villagers following her around. Follow the stench of their decomposing bodies, and we'll find her, even if we have to cut down every single one of them." He clenched his hands around his arms, looking away from the group. His suggestion was the best course of action. They had to follow and finish this. There was no other way around it. Yuuto nodded slowly, agreeing even with his strong dislike of the half demon.

"And the shard?" Inu Yasha's eyes snapped to hers as she spoke, his eyes darkening.

"What shard?" He grounded out. Sango suddenly remembered that they didn't know about the cause of this attack, that they had not been made aware of the fact that four mikos had been cloaking it and defending it against the demon.

"The Takedas have a shard. It's the reason the demon attacked," she answered.

"We take it." He grinned evilly, fangs peeking out from under his upper lip.

"Inu Yasha," Kagome started hesitantly. The hanyou turned a glare towards the miko, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to intimidate her into agreeing with him. She pursed her lips, but held his gaze.

"We can't just take it and disappear. Sango would take the brunt of it, and they'd come after her…" The slayer swallowed, touched that her friend had thought of such things. Yet, to her, it seemed trivial. The Takedas would ask for her head either way. Rikuto would not let his rage go, that much had become clear.

"And then what? Should it go to Naraku? You know he'll come for it, and everyone here will die." Kagome's shoulders slumped. There was too much truth in what he had said. If no other demon did the job, Naraku would.

"I… There has to be another way," she said pleadingly. The hanyou looked away, and everyone fell silent.

"I will leave in two days and start trailing the demon." Yuuto was the one to break the silence. He glanced at Sango, and hesitated.

"You're welcome to come," he finally admitted, searching her eyes. She swallowed, and looked away. She wished she could come, but she couldn't leave this place, nor could she leave Miroku. The Taijiya glanced at the sleeping monk.

"Inu Yasha… I can't carry Miroku with my injuries. Could you…?" She asked softly, ignoring her fellow slayer as he looked at her expectantly. The hanyou nodded and went to the monk to pick him up and put him on a futon. Miroku did not wake, but groaned softly. His breathing became ragged as he lay on his back. Sango hurried over and turned him to the side gently, and immediately, his struggles ceased. She brushed her fingers into his hair gently, tears prickling at her eyes. Kagome joined her silently. The gentle hand on her shoulder startled her, and she brought teary eyes to meet her friend's concerned brown ones.

"The medicine didn't work, did it?" Even as she asked the question, Sango knew that Kagome already knew the answer. What else could they say though?

"It slowed it down somewhat, but…" Sango shrugged and clenched her hands into her lap to hide their shaking. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Kagome rake her hands through her hair.

"Isn't there something you can do, Kagome?" The words came out strangled. There had to be a way to fight this. Yet, she felt bad asking Kagome such a thing. The poor girl was probably just as concerned about the monk, and had to feel just as much helplessness.

The miko wriggled her hands, opened her mouth, then closed it. Sango's heart lurched into her throat, and a sliver of hope blossomed into her chest. She turned fully to face her friend and clutched her shoulders, meeting her gaze pleadingly.

"I…I could try to purify the infection out of his body. If it's a demonic parasite, it could…it could help…but… it could kill him too." The last part was whispered. Sango recoiled.

"I mean… he's lasted a long time, being so sick. His condition seems to be worsening, but slowly. It could be that his holy powers are helping him fight, but we can't be sure." The slayer bit on her lower lip hard, calculating the odds, looking at options from all sides. What more could they do? Would they really find a cure for this? The thought of hastening the process that would lead to Miroku's death made her want to whimper in anguish. Yet, what else could be done? Her own indecision was reflected into the miko's eyes.

"Do it, Kagome. Please." The miko closed her eyes, shuddered, and letting out a deep breath, turned towards the monk.

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.

.

"Stop Kagome!" Clawed hands reached to pry her hands away from the sick monk, but recoiled as purifying energy touched his skin.

"Nearly…can…" She grunted from between clenched teeth. Sweat beaded on her brow and rolled down the slope of her nose to land on her knees. Black spots appeared in her vision, but she continued pushing purifying energy into her hands.

"DAMMIT! STOP IT!"The hanyou cried out angrily into her ear. She ignored it.

"DO SOMETHING!" She wavered and slumped forwards a little more. She was tired, so tired. Her eyes started closing. Thin but strong arms wrapped around her body, trapping her arms to her sides, and tugged her away from the monk. She struggled, tried to talk but her tongue felt numb, so nothing but strangled whispers came out. The miko tugged against the person's hold, earning a grunt of pain, and she fell back. Dark brown hair landed on her nose, making it twitch. She sneezed, and opened blurry eyes to stare into mahogany ones filled with concern and relief.

"It's okay Kagome. You can rest now." The voice sounded distant, but she obeyed, and closed her eyes, letting herself go lax. She had done her best. The rest was up to Miroku.

Sango glanced up at Inu Yasha as he stood over her and the miko she held against her body. Her shoulder pulsed with her heartbeat, sharp stabs of pain making her grit her teeth. Kagome had struggled before they had fallen to the side, landing on the shoulder she had dislocated. Both incidents seemed to have worsened her injury. She untangled herself from around her friend as the hanyou bent down and picked her up. She could see his body vibrating with anger as he cradled the young miko, but his hold was gentle as he carried her towards the door.

"Keep an eye on the monk. I'll check up on you later." The words were spoken harshly, but not unkindly. She did not take them badly, knowing Inu Yasha didn't know how to deal with love and concern with anything but anger. She watched him go.

"You! Have some water, food and first aid stuff sent to the slayer and monk! KEH!" She heard him shout to the guard outside of the door. A small smile appeared on her lips and she touched her fingers to her crusty hair. She had had the opportunity to switch to a new yukata, but no water, bandage or even food had been brought to their cell, everyone too busy with the wounded or the destroyed parts of the castle to care about the prisoners. Well, one person cared, it would seem.

Sango turned her gaze to the sleeping monk.

Time only would tell if their attempt to heal him had been successful.

End chapter 18.

I hope it was a good read! And there was some more Miroku/Sango, as promised ^.^. As always, my thanks to Death101-Fox Version, kaerfemina and Otaku-SIG for their review.

I promise even more Miroku/Sango in the next chapter! Things will definitely pick up in term of their possible romance…


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha,

Chapter 19

Sango woke up slowly, languorously. She felt warm, and the futon underneath her was softer than the ground she was used to. She arched her body closer to the warmth, clutching at the blanket tightly.

She breathed in deeply. A sigh escaped her lips. A warm hand brushed against her cheek gently, pushing away a few strands of her hair that had been covering her eyes. The tresses were still wet and slippery from being washed. They glided against her skin in a ticklish caress.

Sango fell back with a gasp, crawling away quickly from the individual touching her. Her heart beat fast as she looked around in the dim lighting for some kind of weapon to defend herself with. Whoever had crawled to bed with her would not get to her without a fight. She was not defenceless anymore, had not been for a long time.

"Sango?" Warm purple eyes looked at her worryingly. Her heart stopped beating. Her breath caught into her chest. She clawed at the ground and propelled herself forwards, falling into Miroku's chest. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder she wrapped her arms tightly around his torso. Tears prickled at her eyes as she pressed her cheek against the monk's collarbone. A wave of pain, relief and love rose within her, lapping at her heart, pushing and tugging until it felt she would explode from the emotions submerging her.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" She felt his breath displace her bangs near her ear. She had to concentrate to understand the words spoken softly but teasingly. The wave threatening her crashed. A sob escaped her mouth mixed with a harsh breathless laugh, the tears she had tried so valiantly to keep away now escaping from under her lids in thin salty rivers. Her sobs rocked her body, making her convulse slightly, and warm arms immediately wrapped around her body, dragging her closer. She huddled close, clawing at his yukata to take hold of the soft cloth, fisting it tightly. The slayer felt soft lips against her forehead and a wash of warm breath released with a shaky sigh.

Sniffling, she looked up at the man holding her. He regarded her with soft eyes. A small smile tilted his lips. His expression was full of tenderness and concern. The expression transformed his face, masking some of the strain the sickness had put his body under. His lids became heavy as he regarded her, and he ran a gentle hand through her hair, tucking it back behind one ear. Instead of letting go though, he cupped her cheek lovingly, and brushed his thumb back and forth against her cheekbone. Her heart beat loudly into her ears.

Unable to hold his gaze, she lowered her eyes to his chest, where one of the pustules had previously become black and had cracked open to ooze pus and blood. Her breath caught as she noticed a red healing scab in its stead. Her hand rose, and she touched her fingertips caressingly to the healthy skin around it. Her stomach dropped with relief, prompting her to laugh shakily. He was healing.

Miroku closed the distance between them, leaning his forehead weakly against hers. Her eyes flew up to meet his. She kept her eyes wide open, afraid he would disappear before her if she closed them, or that she'd open them to a harsher reality, wishing for the remnants of a dream that would never be. Tears blurred her vision from the strain, coating her eyes before falling some more down her cheeks in fat drops. He closed the distance, and touched his lips to the corner of her mouth. His lips felt soft, warm and dry against her skin, the touch infinitely tender. She sucked in a breath, blinking, and more fat tears rolled down her cheeks to end at his lips, her sadness now his to taste. Her chest throbbed, her mind suddenly buzzing from all the sensations. Her skin felt hypersensitive where his lips touched it, radiating outwards until her body felt electrified, and yet heavy at the same time. His head turned, his lips barely brushing against hers, lighter than butterfly wings. Her heart pulsed.

She gasped, and fell back in a heap, eyes wide.

Sango licked her lips, regarding Miroku with large eyes, staying sprawled on her side. The man returned her gaze steadily. Sadness and longing tinted his expression before it disappeared, replaced by a teasing, if tired smile.

"So... am I?" He asked, his voice slightly hoarse. At her silence, he continued.

"Forgiven that is?" Sango nodded and looked away, rearranging herself awkwardly. The silence grew heavy within the air, making her shift uncomfortably. Her heart still beat loudly, each thump nearly making her lurch from the pressure they exerted in her chest. Miroku had kissed her. Confusion made her mouth go dry. She couldn't understand his tentative kiss. The touch of his lips against hers had been gentle, teasing, even innocent. It had been so different than any of his previously invasive groping.

He was not a bad man, had never been. He was a womanizer though, restlessly pursuing women, seeing them as an opportunity to appease his sexual appetite. God only how many women he had been with. Even though his approach had always seemed to her disrespectful and overtly lecherous, other women seemed to appreciate it. No doubt their reactions only encouraged him. This way of behaving was so different from what she had come to expect of him.

She couldn't make sense of it. Sango raked one hand through her hair, staring at her lap. It had to be the result of being sick for so long; he might still be loopy from lack of food and the strain the illness had put on his body.

"Did you find a cure?" He finally broke the uncomfortable silence. She slumped with relief as his words also broke her out of her thoughts. She spent the next hour or so explaining to him everything that had happened since he had fallen sick, and everything they now knew about the threat. He listened silently, asking some questions once in a while. He had moved to lie on his futon early in the conversation, still weak as he was from his experience with the illness. He may be healing, but he was still sick. It would take a while for the sores left by the illness to fully heal, as well as for him to regain his strength and the muscles he had lost.

"So, we are going then." He scrubbed one hand down his face. Sango hesitated, unsure. On the one hand, in theory they could leave now that Miroku was somewhat better. But would the Takedas really let her leave? Would they let Miroku go after he attacked the heir to save her from being raped?

.

.

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Keys jingled into the lock of their cell, attracting the attention of both the monk and slayer. A guard, one that Sango recognized to belong to the young Hojo heir, entered the cell. He threw a bundle of black leather and pink demon plates at her, and black and purple robes towards Miroku.

"Get dressed. The daimio will see you shortly." Without further ado, the guard left, but did not lock the door behind himself. The slayer and monk looked at each other, perplexed. This could either be a very good, or a very bad thing. Sango's heart started pounding and her mouth went dry. Was this it? Would they be executed? Or would the daimio forgive them and let them go? The later seemed almost unbelievable. After all they had gone through, could it be so easy?

Sango took her clothing and went to hide behind one of the room partitions to change. The leather felt wonderful, buttery soft and warm against her skin, as she put on her slayer uniform. It felt familiar, like a part of herself, and she realized only now how much she had missed it, missed that part of her identity. Yet, the leather now sagged slightly around her hips, whereas it had been skin tight before, a reminder of the time she had spent in a cell without proper sustenance, or exercise. She fixed the armoured pink plates and came out to find the monk sitting on the ground, fully dressed but looking slightly winded. She bit on her lower lip, concern flaring anew. He was only one day out of his illness, and still healing. It was grossly apparent when one considered that only getting dressed had sapped so much of his energy.

She approached the monk, and put one hand on his shoulder, offering silently her support. He stood up with her help, and they approached the guard that waited for them. The walk seemed to be taking hours as they made their way to what turned out to the daimio's office. Kagome, Inu Yasha, Shippou and Kilala all turned to face them as they entered the room. Somewhat standing apart was Yuuto, who nodded at her, his face otherwise impassive.

The Takeda monarch sat on his throne atop of a podium a few feet high, looking very serious as he stared at papers on the table in front of him. He was flanked by his son, Rikuto. The younger man wore an expression of barely controlled rage, and his glare only intensified as they were ushered to kneel. Next to him, on a lower level of the podium, sat his young fiancé, looking as fragile and innocent as ever. She gave a barely perceptible quirk of her lips as Miroku and Sango knelt in front of the royal, but it was gone so fast Sango couldn't be sure she hadn't imagined it.

Sango bowed her head to stare at the ground. Her hands shook visibly. The slayer clenched them in her lap.

"Well, now," the daimio began. Her mouth went dry.

"You have been brought here to discuss your sentence." Sango nodded. She risked a glance at her friends, and found them staring up at the daimio determinedly. The sight only reminded her of the fact they would fight for her freedom, and the monk's, no matter the consequences. She closed her eyes, a prayer on the tip of her tongue.

"It seems that many have opted to plead both of your cases." The daimio paused.

"After much consideration, I have decided to release both of you so you may continue to pursue the demon that has attacked us. In light of the help you have given us in this fight, and how instrumental you have been in our survival, your previous crimes will be declared void. Be warned, however, young slayer, that you are not welcome in this castle." Sango's eyes snapped up to stare at the daimio as she forgot herself from her surprise. A sudden feeling of light-headedness spread over her, making her feel faint. She sucked in a shaky breath, one strangled with tears, and leaned forward until her forehead touched the ground.

_Free._

The feelings rushing through her were indescribable. She felt like the first time she had ridden Kilala; the wind whipping her hair back, the loss of gravity, the impression she would take flight and never touch the ground.

She heard Kagome gasp, but paid her no attention. Yet the noise brought her back to the present, prompting her to straighten with difficulties. The daimio regarded her seriously for a second, then turned his stare to his work, a dismissal if she ever saw one. Sango started gaining her feet when a shout of outrage made her pause.

"FATHER! You cannot be serious!" The Takeda heir seemed enraged, his face blotched red as he shook from the strain of his fury.

"Quiet, Rikuto." The words were spoken quietly but iron coated every word. The look the daimio gave to his son spoke volume. While he may have been indulgent towards his son, the monarch would not take such blatant disrespect. The heir's young fiancé gave Sango a small triumphant smile, a rapid tilt in her lips, before her face went impassive once more. Rikuto stood up in a flurry of robes and stomped out of the room.

"Leave, now." The daimio waved them away. Sango immediately hurried to her feet, bowed and turned towards her friends. No sooner had she turned that she was nearly bowled over, Kagome running into her to hug her. She hugged the priestess back slowly, too stunned to do much more than wrap her arms around her and hold on.

The daimio had pardoned her crimes, hers and Miroku. She would have nothing to fear from him and his army, would not have to avoid the Takeda's territories anymore. There was no doubt the decree might change when Rikuto would take the throne, should he ever get his hands on her, or even now, should he be so lucky as to corner her, but for all intents and purposes, she was free. Tears prickled at her eyes once more.

Suddenly, it felt as if she had lost the heavy weight on her shoulders. It did not make her past actions better, did not deter from how wrong she had been to attack royalty, and her future husband at that. Nonetheless, she could put it into the past, knowing that she had regained part of her honour through her actions. Her clan could never forgive her as they were gone, and as such, a part of her would always live in shame, but maybe, just maybe she could somewhat make it better by avenging them.

She was still in a daze as the guards ushered them out and escorted them towards the soldier's room. Her boomerang and multiple weapons were shoved into her arms. Soldiers surrounded her as she equipped herself, crowding her in their attempts to thank her and see her off. She smiled distractedly at them, nodded at their comments and bobbed and weaved to avoid their hands as they tried to pat her on the shoulder or the back. She was still too sore to receive such jarring touches, and did not wish to be touched thusly by so many men at once. Other unwanted touches lingered too close to her mind for her to be comfortable in such a situation.

She noticed a boy watching her and recognized him as the Hojo heir's little spy before he disappeared from her view. She slipped out of the door and into the cool morning air. The others in her group still said goodbyes, or tried to pry themselves away from the disappointed soldiers. Inu Yasha had seemed distinctively uncomfortable as they had stared up at him with hero worship into their eyes. The thought was amusing, bringing a small smile to her lips.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again. She drew in a deep inhalation of fresh air, and closed her eyes, letting herself bask in the rays of the morning sun.

"So, slayer, I have heard that you are leaving." Sango turned quickly to face her interlocutor. The miko she had fought alongside of leaned against the wall, encased in shadows. She smiled slightly, head tilted. The harsh blue bruises around her throat seemed blatant against her pallid skin, but the miko seemed otherwise okay.

Sango nodded.

With a twist of her wrist, the priestess tossed something towards the slayer. Out of reflexes, she caught the object in midair and opened her palm to stare at a pink sliver of shikon no tama. She snapped her head up to gaze at the miko who stared back with a smirk on her lips.

"So easily?" She asked, immediately suspicious. It did not seem likely the Takedas would give them the shard so generously.

"Did you not hear? The demon was successful in acquiring it." The older woman's smirk became feral as she shrugged a shoulder. Sango's eyebrows rose. She stared at her interlocutor, eyes wide in question and bewilderment. Seeing the look, the miko glanced away to scan the tree line.

"Some believe that this will only bring more destruction upon us,"she offered. The words seemed too close to those of the Hojo heir to be a mere coincidence. It seemed so unlikely that the young princess would be allied with the mikos the Takedas had gotten to protect the shard, yet it was not impossible. The miko knew better than most the danger the shard represented, as well as its power. It was also likely she had heard about the heir selling out her little sister to the demon, for all intent and purpose offering her up on a plate to him. The betrayal could be enough to change her loyalties from the Takedas to the scheming Hojo princess.

"I tend to agree," the miko supplied at Sango's silence. Her smile widened, showing teeth. For some reason, the smile seemed threatening, a promise of dire harm should anyone disagree with her.

"And then, there is the fact the Shikon no Tama already has a priestess guarding it, no?" All over again Sango was reminded of the width of this woman's power. She was one of the strongest, if not the strongest miko she had ever seen, maybe what Kikyo could have become, had she lived. What made the woman stand out all the more though was her attitude. For some reason, she reminded Sango of a watered down miko version of Inu Yasha. She glanced over her shoulder as she heard Inu Yasha cursing, and when she turned around, the miko was gone.

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.

.

"C'mon!" Inu Yasha called over his shoulder. The hanyou ran with the miko on his back, the girl now in full miko regalia, her uniform too stained and ripped to be repaired. Shippou tagged along for the ride, holding onto her shoulder tightly in order not to fall.

Sango rode Kilala, along with Miroku. The monk was slumped against her back, head lolling on her shoulder lightly as he held his staff across her waist. For once, the slayer did not say anything about his closeness, no matter how uncomfortable the feel of his body against hers made her. The warmth of his body, even through their multiple layers of cloth, made her skin prickle with awareness. Drops of perspiration curled down the crease of her spine, making her skin itch. His moist breath sometimes touched the skin behind her ear, wrenching shivers out of her body, even though she was far from cold.

Her shoulders slumped. The man was also heavy against her weakened body, and it took a lot of her energy to stay upright herself to supporting him so he didn't fall.

She stiffened her spine, and lowered her torso closer to Kilala's back to relieve some of the tension on her lower back.

Still, she couldn't get comfortable.

She did not fear the monk in this state, but their position, for once, made her feel strangely vulnerable for reasons she did not understand, nor wished to visit. What she chose to concentrate upon instead, was how Miroku's health was still shaky. For the monk to be half asleep against her back, and not be trying to cop a feel, he had to be still quite weakened. And yet, even though Sango, Miroku and Kagome were still all recovering, Inu Yasha was pushing them to their limits. Finding that they had been given the shard had only emboldened him into wanting to pursue so much more ardently the demon that had escaped. Maybe it was the prospect of getting his hands on the shard the parasite owned. Their only saving grace was that Kilala had not participated in the fights, but had instead been staying in the castle with Shippou while everything went down. She was thus able to carry both of them, while Inu Yasha, already recovered, carried the still tired Kagome.

It only left Yuuto, who rode his horse. The poor animal was having troubles keeping up however. It was no match for two demons. Secretly though, she was pretty sure everyone save for Inu Yasha was thankful for the breaks it meant they had to take. She indicated to Kilala to go lower so as to be heard.

"How far?" She called out to the man riding to her left.

"By now, my group would be camped in Suruga. We have to continue south-west." Sango nodded. She knew the area he spoke of well. She had had a mission in the territory with her fellow slayers before her village got destroyed.

"We'll have to stop for the night soon, I think. Your horse looks like it won't be able to continue much longer." She saw Inu Yasha falter slightly in front of her, and knew he had been listening to their conversation. It was likely he was not happy at having to stop so soon, but it couldn't be helped. The poor animal's coat was shinny with sweat and white foam contoured its lips. To be honest, she herself was very tired, and Miroku was obviously the worse of the group, half asleep as he was. Thank God Kilala was a smooth ride, or he would have fallen off by now.

"I think we are close to a spring," she called out to Yuuto, racking her brain to pinpoint its exact location. The spring would be a very welcome thing for everyone, and it was in a secure spot.

"You're right. I think it's a few miles ahead. It would be a good location to bed down."

.

.

.

_3 years and 5 months ago_

The water of the small pool of water in front of her reflected the light of the full moon, allowing her to somewhat see her wound. Sango tried to reach for the cut on the back of her shoulder. She winced as the skin pulled at the move. The cut immediately started oozing fresh blood. The young girl sighed and dipped her rag in the limpid water next to her.

"Let me help you with that," a soft voice said from behind her. The slayer swirled and lowered herself into a crouch, a blade held in her hand. The young man in front of her smiled amusedly, putting his hands up as in surrender.

"Now now, don't hurt me. I just wanna help." Sango shook her head and sighed.

"You should know not to sneak up on me, Akio. I could have hurt you." She let go of the blade and sat back down on her spot, her back to her companion. She heard his steps as he came closer, and forced herself to relax, knowing there was no danger, but still unable to deny her instincts. She felt gentle fingers pry the leather away from her shoulder blades and tightened her hands into fists.

"That time didn't count," he replied jokingly, poking her lightly in the ribs. The dark-haired girl shook her head at his blasé attitude. The first time he had tried to help her with her injuries she had lashed out at him with a katana. She had cut him on the collarbone, his block coming too late against her unexpected attack. It had taken a long time for her to accept his help, and an even longer time for her to trust him enough to give her back to him, or even to allow him to touch her.

Akio though had always been patient and kind, had always been there with an easy smile and a gentle teasing word, cocky attitude to boot. It was no wonder she had given in under his constant attempts at befriending her. There was no hidden motive in the boy's actions, no underlying thoughts, just an open honesty and carefree attitude that made it so easy to trust him.

Water droplets ran down her back to be absorbed by her chest bindings as he cleaned her wound gently. He stayed quiet, absorbed in his task. She relaxed, letting her forehead fall to her knees.

Three years spent training together, and now after a little above a year of fighting side by side, she was comfortable with him, or as comfortable as she could ever be with someone of the opposite gender. She felt a cool mixture being spread upon the wound and a familiar smell reached her nostrils. The scent of this mixture made her stomach roll, and she forced down the painful memories it brought back. She hated it. She started breathing through her mouth, inhaling and holding her breath as long as possible so as not to smell the disgusting smell once more.

"Are you falling unconscious from the pain, San-Go?" The young slayer released her breath and rolled her head to look over her shoulder at the boy tending her injury. She narrowed her eyes at her fellow slayer, who only smiled wider. Yet, underneath the cheerful facade she detected hints of worry and sadness. She held his gaze, trying to discern, once more, how much he knew about her or what had happened to her.

"C'mon, you need to raise your arms a little so I can bandage your torso." The young slayer did as instructed, putting aside her questions. A part of her didn't wish to know the answers to those questions. She wanted to think he saw her as whole and unblemished, having dishonoured their village, yes, but trying to repair what she had done to the best of her abilities.

Warm fingertips brushed her chilled skin as he finished wrapping the bandage and tucked the edges in to ensure it stayed put. Sango shivered, the touch eliciting conflicting reactions inside of her, a pleasant warmth being undercut by images of similar "gentle" touches. The dark haired-girl leaned forward and away from the touch, quickly putting the top part of her uniform back on.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking at the ground. A soft sigh resonated in the silence that ensued. Sango closed her eyes, willing away the tears that prickled at her eyes. Tears? But for what? He had not hurt her. Nothing was wrong. Everything was as it should be.

"C'mon. We should head back to camp and get some sleep. We still have many more days of walking before we can get to the village." Sango stood up and followed her team leader slowly, lagging behind as he led the way. A dull ache throbbed inside of her chest.

It was only the pain in her shoulder, she told herself.

.

.

.

Sango looked up at the moon in reminiscence. Her chest throbbed once more, as it had done so long ago. She dipped her hands into the spring and splashed water on her face. The cold liquid jarred her, and thus brought sweet relief, dulling her emotional pain for a few precious seconds.

Being alone in this place brought back a lot of buried feelings. She pressed one hand against her stomach, feeling for an unseen wound.

_The slayer's hands shook as she pressed them against her stomach; blood poured down the four slashes across her abdomen, from her belly button and down across her pelvis. She felt with her fingers, pushing the digits in until her nails disappeared within her abdomen. Sobs wracked her body at the pain, but she needed to know, needed to be sure._

_The cuts were deep, so deep._

_She pulled her fingertips out with chocked whimpers of pain._

As the memory invaded her mind, she bent down and splashed more cold water against her face, and then again almost violently. The images kept coming though and she clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms.

"You okay?" The voice startled her from her thoughts. She unsheathed her wakizashi as she turned and swung it into an arc. The person behind her leaned back slightly on the balls of his feet to avoid her blade before straightening up. He kept his arms crossed as he regarded her seriously.

Sango sucked in a breath as her mind cleared and she recognized the person in front of her as Yuuto, and not an enemy. She let her arm fall limply to her side, her face now desolate.

"I'm sorry, Yuuto-san," she whispered. The other man shrugged, but continued to fix her. It did not escape her notice that even though he had come up behind her, he had stayed just outside of reach of her blade the whole time.

"We are slayers," was all he said. Yes, she supposed it said it all. A hyper vigilant slayer was a living slayer, a lesson that they learned quite quickly. She rubbed the back of her neck, her conscience not appeased. She heard him shift his weight and noticed him taking a step closer.

"Are you okay?" He asked again. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"I'm okay." She gave him a humourless but still genuine smile. His gruff way of showing worry was touching, in some way. She hadn't necessarily thought the man would still care after all those years. Yuuto racked his gaze over her form slowly, his eyes lingering on her stomach before they flew up to hers.

She flinched and shook her head. The meaning was clear; she didn't wish to talk about her injury, or her near-death experience. He smiled slightly, a small curl at one corner of his lips, and crouched near the spring to refill his water canister.

Sango sheathed her blade and turned to go, intent on leaving him to his privacy.

"Stay." The word was soft yet heavy into the silent night. She hesitated, and then sat down next to him, circling her knees with her arms and putting her chin on them.

She listened to the sound of water splashing as he washed his face.

"How is your leg?"

"Good." The answer was short, to the point. She remembered Yuuto as slightly shy, hanging into the background, and quiet. Some things had changed it seemed, whereas others hadn't. The man was still quiet, but there was a harshness and confidence about him that spoke of his experience. He was a man that did not cower, but faced danger with cold anger. He had survived the village's destruction.

Questions that she had buried came back to the surface.

"How?" He looked at her from the corners of his eyes.

"How is it you survived? I found no one, not one trace. There were so many missing bodies, so many dismembered ones, I thought you were dead." The male slayer moved back to sit next to her. His eyes shone in the darkness as he regarded her.

"The elders decided to send us out to another mission a few days after you left. We were gone when the village was attacked and destroyed." She stopped breathing, one word repeating itself again and again in her head.

"Us?" The word escaped her parted lips on a breath, quiet and full of despair.

"Our team. Naoki, Toshi, Kenta, Masaki, Shirou, Ryuu and...Akio." Sango brought one hand up to grasp at her chest.

"A-Akio?" The other man regarded her sombrely as he nodded. His gaze roved over her face. She told her heart to still, that it did not matter, that maybe all of her companions- her Akio- had died since then.

"Who is still alive?"

"Kenta, Toshi, Masaki, and Akio." Her heart throbbed as he omitted to mention Naoki, the other boy she had grown close to, especially after what had happened with Akio. He was the one that had helped her understand, that had stood next to her as she cried and raged. She let out a shuddering breath.

"Will...Will they be there?" The man nodded. Sango stood up quickly and staggered away, ignoring the slayer's soft calls as she made her way to the camp, her heart heavy.

End chapter.

Well well! A cookie to readers that saw this coming; Akio is alive! I just had to.

Thanks to AM78, Otaku-Sig, Boobie-chan and DeathFox-101 for their reviews!


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha.

**Chapter 20**

The next few days passed as if Sango was in a daze. Her friends had remarked that she seemed distracted, but she had imputed it to everything she had gone through in the last few weeks. She had been under much stress and physical duress during her time spent at the castle, between her imprisonment and the battle she had participated in.

Sango had thus used the last weeks as an excuse for her "odd" behaviour. Thankfully, Kagome's inquiries had stopped after this explanation, the priestess wishing to respect her friend's pain by giving her space but lingering close by in case she was needed.

If only the miko knew. Those events were not the only ones weighing on her mind. Her sleep was disturbed by nightmares of her childhood, of nearly being raped in the castle, of nearly dying. There was no respite for her, no soothing loss of awareness one gets from sleeping.

And during the day, the memories resurfaced, sometimes nearly too real to discern from reality. She could not help but jump at the slightest sound, the barest touch. Only another thought haunted her mind: the end of this trip meant she would meet with a group of survivors from her village.

Her heart stuttered.

Kami.

The thought was wild beyond her greatest dreams. She had thought for so long Kohaku and she had been the last. And now, years later, some of them were out there, living, breathing, maybe thriving even.

Had they reconstructed the village? Were they trying to resuscitate their trade? Had they recruited new people? Had some of the survivors married and had children? The questions swirled chaotically through her mind. Yet, she could not bear to ask them. As much as her desire to know more burned her, she wasn't ready to hear the answers. She was still simply trying to wrap her mind around the fact there were survivors, and that she would meet them.

It was obvious the others were watching her, waiting to see her reactions, pondering what she was thinking of in regards to this upcoming meeting. She knew they wondered, had heard their whispers, seen their concerned looks. Yet no one confronted her, not that she made it easy for anyone to speak to her. She easily avoided the others during the day, the fact that they were travelling swiftly making it impossible to hold long conversations. Kilala floated above Kagome, Inu Yasha, and Yuuto, out of hearing range. Miroku seemed to be half asleep most of the time. At night, when they camped, she volunteered to help with chores, made a show of resting or took care of her weapons. All of these activities provided her with the solitude she craved.

Inu Yasha watched her like a hawk, but said nothing, while Kagome gave her worried glances. Yuuto would stare at her when he thought she wasn't looking, obviously restraining himself from cornering her to continue their previous conversation. Shippou seemed to have taken her explanations at face value and carried on with the innocent joy of children. So far, everyone left her well alone, but for one.

Miroku still continued to lean against her as they travelled, which she did not begrudge him. He couldn't be expected to be back to one hundred percent yet. She could already discern some improvement though. He could go a longer time without having to lean against her back, and he seemed livelier with each passing day. This bode well. She was relieved he was healing so fast. It only went to show that he would recover completely. She could only hope he continued healing so quickly so that soon she would not have to endure his closeness.

She was uncomfortable with the things he made her feel; the butterflies in her stomach as he watched her warmly, the shivers on her skin as his breath caressed the nape of her neck, the heaviness in her body as his chest pressed against her back.

His ability to affect her was not new though; he had always been able to move her when he wished to. She had never been insensitive to his charm. Not the type of charm he liked to use with the mass of women he propositioned mind you, but the quiet warmth and teasing he turned sometimes towards her. He was protective towards her, always there with a smile and a helping hand.

Those were the things that made her scared. Maybe it was because of those things that, even though he disrespected her with his groping touches, she couldn't create a lasting distance between them. Even now, their last incident seemed far into her mind.

And yet...

She had not lied to him when she told him she didn't think he respected her as a woman, even though he respected the warrior inside of her. The thought hurt, even if she was used to it by now.

As a child, her mother had told her bedtime stories about Midoriko, a strong warrior of a woman, half samurai, half miko. That warrior had been from another era though, one were women could fight alongside of men, and still be a mother and a wife. Times had changed with the advent of this new era. Things were not as such anymore. Women were expected to honour their husband, to be good wives and raise sons. This had been her fate, until she dishonoured her village. Then she had been taught to be a warrior, only that and nothing else.

Because of that, men looked at her differently. She was an oddity that deserved little respect but for her ability to fight - for some, only once she proved herself a good fighter. Otherwise, as a woman, she was only worthy of passing curiosity, disquiet, or even hostility. She had lived her life with such reactions, both as a young slayer in training, and as the last survivor of her village. Coming from Miroku though, the familiar reactions hurt. She had hoped he would be able to see something more in her

She didn't think his crass attempts at initiating some kind of physical contact were proof of anything else but lust. He was not the first one to somewhat covet her after all. Her uncle and Takeda Rikuto had taught her what to expect in that department.

For that reason, she didn't regret putting the monk into a submission hold. If she could fight, she would; she wouldn't be a victim again to touches she didn't want. She could protect herself now, and if he saw her as a warrior, maybe it was time for her to act as such towards him too, instead of just slapping him in the face as she usually did.

And yet...

If she was honest with herself, there had been another reason for her recent more aggressive reactions. She had needed to destroy the intimacy that had been increasing between them. He had been too close, digging too deep within her heart.

It was dangerous. She couldn't fall for the monk.

She couldn't.

Not only because he didn't see her as a woman of interest, but because having her sins erased by the daimio changed nothing.

Being a demon slayer was the honour and punishment she had been handed by her village. The honour had been to become one of the slayers. It was a highly respected vocation. The punishment had been to be confined to never knowing love, marrying, having children, honouring her family. She would never fulfil her role as a woman.

She was a slayer, condemned to be never more.

Sango closed her eyes for a moment, and shook her head. To think of such things was useless.

She poked at the fire with a stick.

She didn't wish to think anymore. All of her thoughts haunted her. She could only think of the monk, of meeting Yuuto's group, of dying, or of her past. At the very least, her apprehension at seeing her old friends would end tomorrow, as they were only a half day, or a day to the maximum, away from the slayers' camp. She let go of the stick and scooted to the spot she had chosen to sleep. Kilala awaited her in her transformed form. Sango smiled and lay down against her flank, thankful for the warmth the feline demon would provide her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to stop thinking.

Someone sat down next to her, troubling her peace. The young slayer kept her breathing slow and deep, hoping the person would take the hint and leave her alone. No such luck.

"I know you're not sleeping, Sango," a soft voice whispered gently. She opened her eyes and turned her gaze to the man sitting next to her and Kilala, holding back a sigh.

Of course.

"Sango," Miroku whispered her name with a small smile, his eyes warm as he regarded her.

"It seems to be, that you have been avoiding me." The rings on his staff jingled gently as he turned his body to face her more fully. Tiredness tugged at the slayer, both physical and emotional. She only wanted to sleep, no matter what her dreams may bring. She didn't wish to have this conversation with the monk. She was so tired of the confusion and sorrow.

"I do not know what gave you that impression Houshi-sama, as we ride together every day on Kilala." Said neko purred gently and covered her mistress with her tail, providing her with more warmth. Sango smiled up at her friend before turning her gaze to the man next to her. She noticed that his smile had become brittle, and did not reach his eyes anymore. His hand flexed around his staff.

"That is a lie Sango." His gaze whipped at her heart, as it only mirrored pain and uncertainty, emotions that she understood all too well, for she also felt them. The only difference was that she understood why she acted as she did, while he didn't.

"I think you are confused, maybe from the tiredness." His stare darkened, his eyebrows lowering slightly. Annoyance? Anger? She wasn't sure, but the sudden tension in his body told her he was reaching the end of his rope.

"Why must you keep me at arm length, Sango?" She turned her back to him, snuggling against Kilala. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, to see his feelings etched so plainly on his face and feel his gaze penetrating her shields. She needed the distance, if only to get a hold of herself once more.

Warm fingers brushed through her hair, making her jerk away. She tossed an accusatory gaze over her shoulder to the monk. He held his hand suspended above her head, fingers now clenched into a fist.

"I won't give up on you Sango," he breathed out, the words sharp, prickly enough to pierce her heart. She clenched her hands together and turned away in a cruel dismissal.

She heard him stand up and walk away from her. Unexpectedly, a small part of her rebelled, demanding that she does not let him leave, that she call after him.

She tamped down hard on it.

It was for the best, she reminded herself.

Miroku sat down under a tree, his gaze on the slayer resting a few feet away from him. He clenched his hand around his shaft, and then forced himself to relax. His emotions made the act nearly impossible. Anger, confusion and determination swirled together in his heart, making for a bumpy ride. The monk breathed in deeply, and let it out in a sigh.

After his previous fight with the slayer at the village, when she had declared he didn't respect her, and had physically shown him she wouldn't tolerate further touches, he had thought their friendship might be damaged. Most importantly, he had thought any possibility of getting to know the young warrior better had been forever taken away from him. All of his efforts at approaching her and attempting repairs had been rebuffed.

He had come to feel affection towards the young demon slayer. She was his friend, but she could have been so much more. He could not be with her once, caress her and whisper sweet nothings to her, and not let himself crave more, maybe crave forever, with her. He couldn't want forever with any woman, especially not with one so innocent and having lost as much as Sango. His wind tunnel was ever present on his mind, his curse growing every day, until one day it might consume him. He couldn't take the risk of bringing her heart with him.

But on that day, after Megumi's marriage, when she had looked at him with soft eyes filled with old sadness and longing, and asked him if it was wrong to wish for love, his resolve had melted and he had reached out. Her cheek had been soft and warm in his palm. He had seen her hesitate and then move away, too haunted by something he didn't understand to take what he offered. And so he had hugged her and brushed his fingers into her hair, his heart heavy with the pain of her rejection, but also the sense of loneliness and sadness that clung to her skin. She had seemed so out of his reach at that moment, needing, wanting the same thing he did, but just as unwilling, or unable, to pursue it. They simply abstained from it in different ways. Contrary to Sango, who devoted herself to her vocation heart and soul, he reached out to women, never giving his heart, but finding comfort in their arms, and what they were willing to give him, if only for a few blessed moments.

It is only when she had been taken by the daimio's son to be imprisoned and that he had heard Sango tell her tale that he had understood. She had been taken as a child to the palace to be groomed to become the prince's. Her trust had been abused and she had defended herself, only to be punished for it, physically and emotionally. The worst punishment had been to condemn her to a life of loneliness and longing, never knowing love, but only an unfulfilled need for human connection. His tender feelings for her, and his protectiveness towards her had only increased knowing her story.

Because of what he had learned of the prince, he had also suspected the man might wish for revenge. His first warnings to stay away from the slayer had gone unheard by the spoiled heir. When he had seen the man going towards her cell, no matter how sick he was, he had known he needed to follow. Horror and anger had suffused him as he had found the prince atop of her, obviously in the middle of an attempt at forcing himself on her. He was only thankful he had been able to help her before he became too sick to be of much use.

Then, she had been the one to take care of him, feeding him, helping him move around, even helping him bathe. He had heard her crying for him, defending him when the guards came for them, and talking to him when he was semi conscious. After this, there had been no more doubts that she cared about him. Caring and friendship might not be love, but they formed a strong foundation for it, giving him hope for more.

When he finally had woken up from what now seemed like a long arduous dream, he had found her laying with him, head pillowed on his chest. His fingers twitched and warmth radiated in his chest as he remembered kissing the corner of her lips. It had been an innocent kiss, filled with affection and happiness, and one that had ended too soon, as she had pulled away from him like a frightened hare.

Since then, she had evaded him, making sure that he could never really talk to her, until, fed up with the ploy, he had cornered her as she went to sleep. Once more, the slayer had pretended that nothing was wrong, that they were friends, that she wasn't avoiding him. She had even jerked away from one friendly touch.

Miroku tilted his head back, looking at the stars. This time though, he wouldn't give up on her, on them, on what they could be. A mischievous but warm smile appeared on his lips as he tilted his head to watch Sango sleep.

.

.

.

Sango's breathing accelerated as she started hearing noises indicating people were camping close by. They were so close now. Soon they would come upon her old comrades. Her hands shook as she clenched Kilala's fur into her fists. She tightened her legs around the neko's flanks, trying to hide her nervousness. A warm hand squeezed her waist. She tensed at the touch, but it was gone before she could react.

She dismissed the act. It had been done as a way to comfort, not as an overture. Even if it had been an overture, she wouldn't have had the energy or the mind to retaliate. She was too nervous.

A man, who until then had been blending in with the canopy, dropped from a tree branch to land in front of them, katana at the ready. Inu Yasha skid to a halt, leaving a trail of dust in the air as Yuuto tried to rein in his horse. The animal squealed and reared back before settling down.

The man regarded them suspiciously, crouched into a defensive position. She was disappointed to find she didn't recognize him as part of her village; he had to be a new recruit.

Sango kept her position in the air, looking for the man's partner. Slayers worked in teams. While this man was confronting them, his partner was hidden and covering his back. By now she was convinced the whole camp knew they were there. They would have been alerted by this same hidden man. Yuuto approached slowly and dismounted near the other man. He approached him and spoke quietly. Kagome slid down Inu Yasha's back and stepped next to him. The man turned and left, prompting Yuuto to signal for them to follow. Sango indicated for Kilala to approach the ground so they may dismount also before following suite. The neko transformed and climbed on her shoulder, glad for the reprieve.

As they entered the camp, her senses went into overload. She couldn't take in enough of the sights, sounds and scents. Her head swivelled left and right, trying to catch the eyes of the men working on their weapons, training or doing chores. Were they all there? All of her old companions?

Sango suddenly stopped in her tracks, her boomerang falling down heavily on the grass. The muffled thud prompted everyone to stop and turn their gaze towards the slayer, who stared ahead mutedly.

Green eyes clashed with mahogany ones.

A man also stopped all movements.

"Sango." The breeze carried the softly spoken word, filled with surprise and yearning. The slayer swallowed with difficulties and blinked. Tears prickled at her eyes.

"Akio," she breathed out in return, the word chocked, nearly mangled. Nothing could have prepared her for the feelings invading her. Suddenly, a large form barrelled against hers. She felt arms wrap themselves around her like bands of steel, and automatically embraced the male form against her similarly. The young woman buried her nose in the neck of the warrior holding her, breathing in his scent. The smell, so familiar, brought back a flurry of memories and emotions. She was dimly aware of her feet leaving the ground, but only tightened her arms around the man's neck, gripping the collar of his slayer uniform tightly in her fingers, the knuckles turning white from the strain.

"Sango, Sango, Sango," the man whispered in her hair as he breathed her in, holding on tight and long. Finally, he let her slide down his body slowly, still keeping his arms around her. A loud chocked laughed escaped his lips. She blinked dazedly, trying to regain her footing but finding her knees weak.

"Akio," she breathed out once more, her mind too dazed to make proper sentences, or even ask the questions that plagued her.

Warm hands ran over her back, arms and shoulders quickly, as if the man in front of her could scarcely believe she was real. She understood the sensation all too well. Even though Yuuto had told her he was alive, seeing him in person was a shock in itself.

Scarred palms ran over her cheeks and tilted her head back, until she stared back into warm green eyes. The gaze was intense, filled with conflicting emotions.

"I can't believe you're alive," he said hoarsely, searching her eyes. She covered his hands with hers in answers, finally curling her fingers around his to lower their joined hands, which she cradled to her chest.

"I can't believe you're alive either," she replied with a small teary smile. The man laughed joyfully and detangled his hands from her grip to wrap his arms around her waist and swing her around. Sango let out a small sound of surprise, but started laughing nonetheless, sniffling back her tears.

She saw Akio look over her shoulder curiously and turned to her previously forgotten friends. He kept an arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her against his side gently. The young man had gotten taller through the years, and she now fit perfectly under his arm, the top of her shoulders barely reaching his armpit.

Sango found Inu Yasha looking on with a smirk, while Kagome smiled nervously, her gaze darting from Sango to Miroku quickly. The monk stared on, a small frozen smile drawn on his lips. The back of Sango's neck prickled. She moved away from the arm encircling her shoulders slowly, trying not to be too obvious. She made a show of looking around as an excuse, but was too aware of the tension in the air to be able to process anything she saw.

Sango bit her lip, and turned her gaze back to her friends. Her gaze clashed with Miroku's. Yet, he merely stared back, giving nothing. She turned her gaze back to Akio who was bent down to pet a purring Kilala, which was seemingly happy to see the male slayer.

The other slayer that had been with Yuuto stepped forwards to approach Akio, talking to him in hushed tones. The happiness on Akio's face quickly vanished, replaced with worry and anger. He nodded to the slayer and turned towards the group.

"Make yourself at ease within the camp. Eat. Rest. I will come back to see you later." His eyes strayed to Sango as he said the last words, untold emotions flashing briefly in his gaze. Nodding to them, he turned and hurried away.

Sango watched him go, her chest tight as she regarded her childhood friend, the first and only one she had had when she had started her training, the first male that wasn't her father or brother that she had trusted, the one male friend that had nearly become so much more.

"Well well well. You're alive." The slayer tensed. She recognized that voice, the low taunting tones of it. She knew it would be accompanied by a sneer.

The slayer turned around to face her interlocutor.

Kenta regarded her with his usual contempt. The years hadn't changed his attitude towards her person one bit. Physically though, the man had changed, but as she had expected, becoming bigger and wider, more imposing. She regarded him coolly.

"Didn't that wimp you called a brother go crazy and kill you?" A small smile appeared on his lips as she flinched at the words. Hurt was quickly replaced by anger and Sango clenched her fists at her sides. The man had no right to say such a thing about Kohaku. As she opened her mouth to respond, she noticed his gaze was now on Kagome, regarding the young priestess with interest. By the way he was looking at the young woman's bare legs, the interest wasn't innocent either. She wasn't sure the man was aware of the low growling noise coming from the hanyou next to the miko. She saw when Kenta noticed the threatening noise, as a scowl now appeared once more on his face. The hanyou regarded him meanly, a snarl on his lips. The slayer's hand moved towards the katana at his belt. Sango shifted her stance, readying herself to interfere.

Before anyone could move, however, a hand clamped down on Kenta's arm, forcing it down.

"Stop, Kenta," Yuuto said harshly, tightening his fingers around his fellow slayer's arm. The bigger man turned his head to glare at him menacingly. He glanced meaningfully at the hand on his arm before returning his look to Yuuto. The man released him slowly, and put his hands up in a show of peace. Kenta threw him a look of disgust that he then turned on all of them, before turning away.

They all watched him go tensely. She noticed that Yuuto did not turn his back to the man until he was well and truly gone from sight. He then regarded them solemnly.

"I apologize for Kenta. He is..." He trailed off, as if searching for the right words to describe the burly slayer. Sango nodded. The man had always been surly and prejudiced, especially towards demons and women. He was also domineering. His attitude came clearly through his behaviour towards others, especially those he judged inferior to him. It would seem he still saw Yuuto as inferior also.

"How did he know?" Sango cut the tense silence.

"When we came back from our mission, we found the village destroyed, and filled with graves." Yuuto stared at the ground, arms crossed, obviously lost in memories.

"We went looking for explanations, talked to some farmers that lived nearby. They told us that the group that had gone to the castle had been slaughtered and buried, that a boy had gone insane and slaughtered his group." He shook his head and finally looked up. She saw pain in his eyes, and was reminded at once that she was not alone in having lost so much. She hadn't thought for a second what it would be like for the others to learn that she was alive. Like they did for her, chances were she represented a hope long buried.

Shame made her look away.

She had been avoiding the man for much of their travelling time, when he might have been needing to talk about his own pain and simply ask questions about other possible survivors, or the deceased she had buried. She only recalled now that his cousin had been part of the slaying group Kohaku had slaughtered while being controlled by Naraku. She also recalled finding his mother mangled body at the village and putting it into the ground. Sango bit on her lower lip.

"He also reported that there were rumors of a horde of demons using the opportunity of two big teams gone at the same time to invade the village and slaughter everyone." She was his eyes become glazed over, as if he was lost in the past. Yuuto closed his eyes, and Sango saw a muscle jump in his cheek. He opened his eyes after a few second and tilted his head towards a group of men eating.

"You guys should eat. I need to report to Akio what happened." Without further ado, he left.

A pang of hurt made Sango flinch. On some level, not being invited to that meeting was a painful reminder that she wasn't one of them, even though they came from the same village. She didn't know if the exclusion was simply an oversight, or an intentional act meant to send a message. She dismissed the feeling. She wasn't part of the command chain in this new group, no matter how much part of heart yearned for it. Her gaze turned towards the group that she did belong to. They all watched her, Inu Yasha with interest, Kagome with concern, Shippou with curiosity, and Miroku...

Miroku stared at her unwaveringly.

End chapter

Hello everyone. I know it has been a while. Things have been crazy busy, and my muse went walkabout, so I have been struggling to write this chapter. You can thank Gotye feat Kimbra with the song "Somebody that I used to know" for making me finish this chapter. Hearing it suffused me with the necessary inspiration.

My muse is still MIA, but I'll do my best to continue this. I will say I have firm intention of finishing this fic though, no doubt about it. It'll probably be my only Inu Yasha fanfic, so I'll try to make it a good one!

Cheers!


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